The Long Way Home
by THIRTEENpointONE
Summary: Rumbelle AU: After running away from home, Belle stumbles upon an injured man in the Dark Forest. Her decision to do the brave thing and help him will change both of their lives forever.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: All of the characters belong to ABC and OUAT's creators. I'm just having some fun with them._

**_AN: This story is completely AU, and takes place before Rumpelstiltskin's dark curse. It's also not in accordance with OUAT's timelines at all :) Hope you all enjoy!_**

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_Faster. Come on,_ _Onyx, _run_!_ Belle urged, running her hands up her stallion's neck, coaxing him into a faster clip.

Her horse responded eagerly to her cues, lowering his head, and extending his legs even further than before. The increased pace caused Belle to let out a giggle of joy; the fierce wind bringing tears to her eyes, as they dodged across the meadow at a hair-raising pace towards the far tree line.

With the forest quickly approaching them, Belle stole a brief glance over her shoulder, and then reined Onyx sharply to the left, towards the forest on the opposite side of the meadow. She knew that it was a risk, but it was a necessary one, if she was to ensure that she wouldn't be caught.

She kicked Onyx again. Every passing moment in this open meadow made her more and more nervous. Her stallion's pitch-black contrasted starkly against the high, golden grass in the bright, morning sun, making them an easy target at any distance, but, thankfully, his ground-consuming stride more than compensated for it.

Confident in her mount's sure footing, she lowered herself flat against his neck, and urged him forward once again. Onyx was more than willing to comply, and jetted off with another burst of speed, his nostrils flaring, seemingly enjoying this chase as much as she.

The bright sun was suddenly disappeared and Belle pushed herself up and reined Onyx to a stop. She spun him around to see if any soldiers had followed their tracks through the meadow.

Completely concealed amongst the dark trees, Belle took her time waiting for anyone to enter the clearing, but it soon became clear that she had lost them. All that remained was a thin trail of broken grass marking her path. Even though it was barely noticeable, the trail made her nervous and she turned her horse quickly back towards the forest, kicking him off into a trot.

She had only ventured a stone's throw into the forest, before she noticed that an eerie quiet had descended upon the woods, as if the trees themselves took note of her intrusion. The path in front of her became darker and darker, with the sunlight peeking through the trees above in distinct, thin rays of light, creating an illusion that it was almost dusk, instead of dawn.

While most would be unnerved by the foreboding surroundings, Belle thought that the Dark Forest was quite beautiful, peaceful even. To her, the forest was a refuge, one that she had explored ever since she had started venturing out into its darkness as a young girl.

Onyx's heavy breathing distracted her from her brief reverie, bringing her back to the present. She tried to ease him down to a walk to catch his air, but the stallion was still too keyed up from their long chase and jigged along.

"Easy," she murmured, stroking his neck.

Finally, Onyx settled into a walk, albeit a very, strong, powerful one, the stallion showing little sign of fatigue from their chase.

As she rounded the bend, Belle was struck with a sense of déjà vu. She frowned, trying to remember. A distinct, large boulder to her left reminded her vaguely of a trailhead that led to one of her old hiding places.

Torn, she halted Onyx and listened for hoof beats in the distance, hearing nothing except the faraway cry of a hawk. Satisfied that she had indeed lost her pursuers, she coaxed her faithful mount down the winding path behind the boulder.

Even though she wasn't scared of the forest, Belle wasn't naïve, so she lifted up her skirts and unsheathed her dagger that she kept hidden, as she entered the narrow path. The blade was meager protection against a true attack, but it made her feel safer nonetheless.

The trail narrowed and widened, as it twisted through a labyrinth of huge boulders covered in bright green lichen, some nearly as high the castle's walls.

"Good boy, Onyx," she said, patting his neck.

Even though her stallion had seen his fair share of adventures, Belle knew that the close quarters would be unnerving to any horse, so she tried to calm him regardless; even if Onyx was more concerned about trying to taste the passing foliage.

Soon the tight quarters widened, and Belle heard the distinct, rumbling sound of water bouncing against the walls. She smiled. She'd guessed right.

Thick mist began whizzing around the corner, dampening her brow, and causing beads of water to stream down her face. Belle closed her eyes, savoring the cool sensation after her long ride.

She continued to follow the mist's source, until the trail bent sharply again, revealing a large cavern, partially open to the sky above. A small, shallow lake was in the middle of the natural enclosure, fed by a waterfall that fell from the cliff above. The cavern itself was immense, nearly as large as two of the castle's throne rooms. It was also partially eroded, due to a cave-in at some point in its history, with half of its dome gone. Despite this though, it still provided enough shelter from above to be an ideal hiding place for Belle to relax.

Satisfied, she reached down to sheath her dagger, only to nearly fall off as Onyx jerked suddenly to a stop, his neck arched and nostrils flaring at the direction of the falls. A shiver of fear ran down Belle's spine, her senses becoming instantly on high alert that something was wrong.

Gripping her dagger, Belle leaned forward, squinting her eyes to try and detect movement by the falls. She couldn't see anything. It was all a misty haze. Onyx snorted in irritation at her tight grip, throwing his head.

"Easy," she murmured, slowly easing Onyx forward to get a better view.

As soon as she took two steps in, she pulled Onyx to an abrupt halt. Hidden behind the roaring water, was a clear, indistinct shape, crouched down. The blur of the water made it unclear as to whether it was a man or beast, unless she ventured closer.

"Who goes there?" she called out, her voice echoing loudly against the smooth cavern walls.

Belle shut her mouth, cursing herself immediately for her stupidity. _Yes, just encourage the beast to attack you, Belle. Very smart, indeed._

However, nothing happened. The shape did not move.

With her reins and blade gripped firmly in each hand, she made Onyx take another step closer.

"Hello? You there! Show yourself!"

Her voice bounced against the walls, echoing back to her once again, but still she couldn't detect any movement. She waited longer, holding her breath, but the mass remained in the same position as before.

_Oh gods, it's probably just a bloody rock!_ she thought, cuing Onyx to walk forward.

Just as she had begun to turn behind the falls, the mist cleared, revealing the clear shape of a man. Belle gasped in shock, causing her stallion to rear up at her sudden exclamation.

With her heart in her throat, Belle gripped her reins and moved forward, her hands white with tension.

"Who goes there? Show yourself!" she commanded, with as much authority as her shaking voice could muster.

The man, however, continued to lie still, showing no sign that he noticed her presence.

_Do the brave thing. Do the brave thing, _she repeated, mustering all_ of _her courage to cue Onyx forward, instead of running away.

Belle slowly walked forward, and then jerked back, realizing suddenly that the man was unconscious and bleeding profusely from the head. Her fear dissolved instantly into sympathy. Clearly, this man was no threat against an armed, horsed woman.

She felt briefly at an impasse as to what to do, trying to decide if this was a trap, but instead, decided finally to the brave thing and dismounted.

Venturing forward quietly, dagger in hand, she nudged the man with her foot. He didn't budge. She tried to nudge him firmer, and he rolled limply onto his back.

_Oh gods, is he dead? _She took a step back, examining him. The middle-aged man was covered in dirt and grime, and was bleeding from an ugly head wound to his scalp.

"Sir?" she tried, touching him again. "Sir?" His eyes remained closed.

Belle loosed her grip on Onyx's reins and knelt down by the man's chest. She leaned down, dagger first, and listened for his breath. It was faint, but at least he was alive. She touched him tentatively to see if he'd react to the contact, but the man remained motionless.

Bolder now, Belle explored his scalp to see the extent of his wound, grateful that it didn't seem too deep. She had no personal experience treating serious head wounds, but she had incurred her own fair share of injuries to know enough to be able to clean it out.

Standing up, she returned to Onyx's side and rummaged through her saddlebags to see what she could use to treat the wound. Unladylike as it was, she was now glad for the small skin of wine that she had brought with her. She also unwrapped her parcel of food, removing the second sheet of cloth, figuring that it would be the cleanest material she could use to clean the wound.

Onyx gave an impatient tug at the reins, so she released him to go water himself at the pool nearby; she needed to have all her hands to deal with the matter at hand.

She turned back towards the man, who still hadn't moved. Flask in hand, she whispered her apologies, and then poured the alcohol onto the wound, shielding his eyes with the cloth. The man shot upward with a scream.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…I was just trying to—" Belle stammered, jumping up, wine-soaked cloth in hand.

The stranger scrambled back away from her, clutching his arms awkwardly to his chest. His tear-filled eyes were wide and full of terror, and his once barely-moving chest was now heaving in panic.

"Please, don't kill me!" he cried out hoarsely.

Belle held out a hand. "I'm not going to hurt you," she said, still in shock at his sudden awakening.

"Please, please, don't hurt me! I mean you no harm!" the brown-cloaked figure pleaded, scrambling back more, his shoulders hunching in fear.

"I promise, I'm not going to hurt you," she said, walking over offer her hand to help him up. The man, though, shrunk away, shaking in terror.

"Please," he pleaded. "Take anything you want, just don't kill me."

"I'm not going to—" _Oh_, she thought, glancing at the dagger, sheathed prominently in front of her skirt. She moved the blade quickly to the side, and extended her hand again. "I'm sorry. I'm not going to hurt you. Please, I want to help," she said, gesturing towards his head.

Despite her assurances, the cowering man continued to silently shake like a trapped animal.

"Sir, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you." Belle cringed with embarrassment that she had almost scared the poor, already wounded man half-to-death. "Are you by yourself?"

"Ye…yes," he stuttered, nodding his head emphatically at the ground.

Belle nodded, fairly certain now that this wasn't a trap; no one could act _this_ afraid. "May I look at your head? I can try to help."

He didn't respond to her offer; instead, he only panted harder, as his whole body continued to shake.

Belle was overwhelmed by an urge to help stop his shaking, so she stepped over carefully towards him, and knelt down, placing her hand gently on his shoulder. "Hush. It's okay. I only wish to help you," she whispered.

Time seemed to stretch on for several, agonizingly long moments, but the man's breathing finally slowed enough so he was able to at least nod at her. Belle smiled and stroked his hair out of his eyes, without thinking.

The gesture seemed to shock the man, and he looked up at her with wide, watery eyes, collapsing immediately onto the ground. "M'lady!" he exclaimed, groveling at her feet once again. "I mean…I mean you…I'm sorry…I mean you no harm…I'm sorry…"

Belle gasped at his reaction, and then looked down, remembering her dress. To say that she wasn't appropriately dressed as a forest dweller was a gross understatement to say the least, with her beaded, silk finery.

She tried to offer her hand again in comfort, but he shrank away from her touch as if she had burned him. "Please, sir, I just want to know that you're okay. I'm the one in the wrong. I'm the one who startled you."

The man turned away from her, curling his body as if he could shield himself from her presence.

Belle felt horrible. She really did only want to help him, especially since she had given him such a fright, but she had no idea how to proceed. She didn't really think she was that imposing of a figure, but this man looked at her as if she was a battle-hardened ogre. Not knowing what else to do, she raised her skirts and sat down next to the man, allowing for a small space between them.

"I promise I won't trouble you for long. I just came here to rest for a moment," she said quietly, offering a small smile to his turned back. "While I'm here though, I'd like to—"

He cut her off, turning around abruptly, shaking his head at her. "I will leave you at once, m'lady. I am sorry to disturb you."

Belle reached out and touched his arm gently, stopping him as he attempted to rise, embarrassed that he had misinterpreted her. The man froze instantly at her touch. "Please. Sit," she said, gesturing back down.

The man sat hesitantly back down on the ground, clearly at his limits of being comfortable with the situation. His gash, though, had reopened in his struggle and was now bleeding freely down the side of his face.

"I just want to make sure you're okay. You're hurt."

"You…you…don't need to trouble yourself, m'lady."

"Belle. My name is Belle," she said, smiling again. "And I'd like to help you dress that wound, if you would allow me."

He looked up at her with wide eyes. "Wha…why?"

Belle was taken aback, finding that she had no answer. She truly didn't know why. Truth be told, she really _shouldn't_ be doing this —sitting with a strange, disheveled man that she didn't know. In fact, if her father knew what she was doing at the moment, she'd probably be locked up for a month. However, there was just something about this man that drew her to him, making her want to help him. "I…" She flushed, losing her words, not knowing how to explain her actions, and just shrugged.

"I'd be grateful," he whispered sheepishly back.

Belle beamed. "One moment. I'll be right back." She rose to collect her discarded makeshift medical supplies, scattered about around them. Flask and cloth in hand, she sat back down next to him.

"I don't have any proper supplies with me," she said apologetically, "but this should at least stop the bleeding, and prevent it from becoming infected."

He murmured his acknowledgement, as Belle reached out, parting his hair gently back to reveal the ugly gash. He flinched, inhaling sharply at her touch.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "This is going to hurt. Let me know when you're ready."

The man gave a quick nod and Belle poured the remaining wine from the flask onto his wound. He gasped, closing his eyes tightly shut, but uttered no other sound that he was in pain as she wiped the liquid from his face; instead, he simply clutched his fists tightly together in his lap.

Belle tried to work as fast as she could, wiping the grime and dirt away from the cut, as she watched tears of pain roll down his cheek. "Almost done," she said, cleaning the last of the dirt away.

Satisfied that she had cleaned it as best as she possibly could, Belle tore the remaining piece of clean cloth in half, creating two strips, which she wound around his head, securing them with a knot. "All done," she announced, with a smile, moving back away from him.

"Thank you, m'lady," he whispered, avoiding her eyes once again.

"Just Belle, please," she said, ducking her head to catch his eyes.

He avoided her though, looking away.

"And what is your name, may I ask?" she asked, trying to distract him.

The man looked up in shock, and Belle blanched instantly. _Stupid_, she chastised herself. _Not everyone offers their name as freely as you to strangers in the Dark Forest._

"Rumpelstiltskin," he whispered, interrupting her line of thought. "My name is Rumpelstiltskin."

Belle smiled gratefully to the timid man. "It's an honor to meet you, Rumpelstiltskin," she said, giving him a formal nod of introduction. He flinched; startled by her formalities, which she had only meant in half-jest to break the tension. "I'm sorry I frightened you earlier."

He nodded weakly in reply. Not to be discouraged, Belle tried again. "I used to come here as a child. I'd forgotten how beautiful it is."

"Peaceful," he murmured.

"Well, I guess it was until I stormed in," Belle laughed self-deprecatingly.

He simply shook his head somberly at her. "It's your right, your place—"

"Oh, hush you. There's no need to apologize. I was the one who intruded on you."

"You're too kind, m'lady." Rumpelstiltskin murmured, causing Belle to blush.

She didn't know what it was about this strange man that caused such reaction to her. She'd run off dozens of suitors—literally—but a simple compliment from this stranger warmed her in ways she couldn't express.

Her stomach chose to growl unceremoniously at the same moment, causing her to flush further with embarrassment. "I ran out before breakfast," she said, shrugging sheepishly. "Would you care to join me?"

He looked up at her in confusion, but she didn't give him a chance to respond, standing up, and whistling for Onyx to come over to them.

The large stallion lifted his head, and then trotted promptly over to them, stopping abruptly right next to Belle.

Rumpelstiltskin jumped back at Onyx's presence, clearly afraid.

"Oh, no, he's perfectly friendly. See?" she said, grabbing her horse's head in her arms, hugging him playfully, while silently willing Onyx to play along. While in-truth, he was very friendly towards her, Belle wasn't very trusting that he would behave likewise around strangers. There was a reason that she was his one and _only_ rider.

Rumpelstiltskin seemed comforted by her little show, and crept back to his original spot, allowing Belle time to grab her food parcels out of the saddle bags. She was immediately grateful that she had packed for several meals, not knowing how long she would be gone for.

"It's a rather hodge-podge assortment, I must confess," she said, handing over a parcel. "I was in a rush."

"Thank you, m'lady."

"Belle, please. There are no ladies in the forest," she said, smiling.

"Just one, m'lady."

Belle laughed, tossing up her hands. "Oh, come now, you're just doing that on purpose!"

Her companion laughed quietly, meeting her eyes in a smile.

"Thank you…Belle," he breathed reverently.

She smiled at him, averting her gaze quickly in embarrassment at how he was looking at her; he was looking at her like she wasn't real. No one had ever gazed upon her like that.

"Thank you for helping me with my head too," he said shyly, a moment later, gesturing to his temple.

"Of course."

Rumpelstiltskin dipped his head in thanks, and then began to quietly eat his meal.

As he ate, Belle snuck glances to observe her curious, new companion. She could see that he was some years older than she had originally though, but still much younger than her father; the weathered lines in his face were beginning to show. His clothes, covered in dried blood and mud, and numerous scrapes upon his face and arms, bespoke of many troubles, yet his eyes remained kind and soft. _War refugee?_ she wondered. There were many of those entering the kingdom, now more than ever, since the ogre war to the south had turned in the ogres' favor. His lone satchel of belongings seemed to add credence to her theory.

He was also far too thin, she decided. _Could he possibly be trying to live out here?_ He wouldn't last the upcoming months out here, especially not with the cold nights settling in, and the dangerous men that roamed the forest at night. As more and more grim scenarios passed through her mind, Belle was struck by the need to figure out how to help this poor man, until her stream of thought was broken by a soft cough.

"M'lady?"

Belle flushed with embarrassment. She hadn't realized that she was staring. "I'm sorry. Just daydreaming…I do that a lot," she admitted with a shy smile.

Rumpelstiltskin returned her shy smile and returned to his meal, clearly ravenous.

A snort over his shoulder made both of them jump; Onyx had wandered over to Rumpelstiltskin to check out the contents of his parcel.

"Onyx, get away from him!" Belle scolded. When the stallion made no move to budge, she stood up and grabbed his bridle, dragging him away from her petrified companion. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "He wants your apple."

He immediately offered his apple to her. "Here—he can have it."

Belle shook her hand at him. "No, no. Eat it yourself. Can't be rewarding his rudeness. He has his own feed waiting back for him at home. He doesn't need to eat ours too." She shooed her chastised stallion away, to emphasize her point. "He'll stand over there and sulk until I give him something. Just watch," she chuckled.

Sure enough, Onyx stood only a stones-throw away, ears pinned, and head down, sulking at his mistress' "cruelty."

"Have you seen a more pathetic sight?"

This time, Rumpelstiltskin gave a quiet chuckle of laughter, shaking his head "no."

_He was a rather pathetic sight._ Even though most thought of Onyx as a notch below a fire-breathing dragon, Belle caved finally at her prized stallion's sad expression. "All right," she sighed. "Come here."

Onyx's ears perked up and he hurried over to her side, lowering his head to her shoulder. Belle rummaged through her pockets for the sweet hard candies he loved and offered them to him, with a pat on his head.

"He likes you."

"I bribe him." Belle laughed, feeding him another, while continuing to stroke his forehead. "Are you from around here?"

He looked up in surprise at her question, and then averted his gaze downward again. "No," he murmured.

"Oh."

When it became clear that he wasn't going to say anything further, an awkward silence descended upon them, with only the roar of the falls to keep them company as they resumed eating their meals.

"I'm sorry," Belle said finally. "Forgive me for overstepping. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm from the Frontlands," he said quietly, cutting off her apology. "The ogres… my home is gone now." He stopped, swallowing thickly, clearly in pain speaking about it.

Belle felt horrible immediately for asking him. "Avonlea isn't too far from here," she offered. "You could find work there."

He gave her a sad smile, and shook his head. "M'lady you are too kind, but every town I've passed has been full. There's no place for me."

"Well, that's just nonsense. Avonlea is no mere town. I bet you could find some work there."

He looked back down at his hands, clearly disheartened.

Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently in comfort. "You will. I promise."

A loud hawk's cry above startled her, causing her to pull her hands back. She squinted her eyes, recognizing the familiar shape immediately, and growled in anger. She _hated_ that damned bird.

She grabbed Rumpelstiltskin's hand once again. "Rumpelstiltskin," she started, trying to keep her tone calm, "There are some men coming for me. Please do not be afraid. They will do you no harm, I swear."

Rumpelstiltskin scrambled quickly to his feet, gathering his belongings in fear. "_What?_ Where?"

Belle sighed, resigned, looking over to the cavern's opening. "There." Sure enough, the sound hoof claps filled the cavern, overpowering the roar of the falls, sounding as if an entire army was approaching. _Who knows?_ _Father may have just sent the entire cavalry this time._

Within moments, knights in full, glimmering silver armor entered the cavern—twenty in all.

The leader of the group, riding a large white palfrey, and adorned with a bright red cloak draped around his shoulders, trotted over to where Belle and Rumpelstiltskin stood, extending his arm. A sharp cry shouted out from above, and a falcon darted down from the sky, landing gracefully on the knight's forearm.

The knight lifted his helmet, revealing himself to be an older man, with pure white hair, and steel grey eyes. "Princess Belle," he said, addressing her with a slight bow, his hard eyes showing no hint of amusement.

"Sir Alliser," she said, curtseying back.

"I trust that you enjoyed your morning ride," he said dryly.

Belle smiled graciously back. "Very much so, sir."

"Very good." Sir Alliser nodded stiffly, clearly not amused. "And pray, who is this new companion of yours?" he asked, gesturing toward Rumpelstiltskin, who was shielding himself behind Belle's body.

"This my protector, sir."

"Your _protector_? And does your protector have a name?"

"Rumpelstiltskin," she replied smartly. "He found Onyx for me. You see, he became spooked when I was taking a moment to rest and ran off. This gentleman saw my predicament and retrieved him for me, while suffering this wound in the process." She glanced back toward her bewildered companion, giving him a pointed look, hoping that he would have the wits to go along with this lie. A lie that Belle herself had no idea how she came up with.

"Is that so, Rumpelstiltskin?"

"Ye…Yes," he stuttered back, shaking. "Yes, my lord."

Alliser raised his brow higher. "Some, 'protector,' you've found yourself, princess. Am I to believe that this peasant grabbed your beast, when none of my men are able to lay a hand on the animal?"

"I found it quite extraordinary myself. He must have quite the touch," Belle said, smiling back at him. "And I'd watch your tongue, my dear sir, or my father may have to hear about you questioning my accounts."

"My apologies, princess," he said, bowing. "Will you allow us to escort you home, now?"

"If you insist."

"I do."

Her eyes glanced toward the exit, eying her escape. _If I—_

"There are thirty more stationed outside," the knight replied tiredly, sensing her intent. "And the _king_ is expecting you shortly."

She glanced over at his damned pet falcon, and nodded with a sigh. "Very well, then. Let's go. Rumpelstiltskin will ride with me."

The knight reined his horse quickly back around. "What?"

"Well, I wish to reward him, of course." Belle blinked innocently. "It's only proper, considering all of the trouble that I've caused him."

"Princess, there's no need—" Rumpelstiltskin whispered fervently behind her.

"Reward him? For finding your beast?"

"Why, of course! And I clearly cannot do it here, so he must accompany us back to the castle."

He knight opened his mouth to object, but seemed to sense her determination on the matter. "He'll ride with Sir Gregory, then." Belle opened her mouth to protest, but Sir Alliser narrowed his eyes. "I insist."

Belle nodded in agreement. There was no sense in arguing with the captain of her father's kingsguard on such a minute detail, especially after winning his small concession.

"Do you require assistance mounting, princess?" he asked with a slight smirk on his face.

"Thank you, Alliser, but I believe that I'll manage." Belle smiled, thinking smugly back to the morning when she had gotten a running start ahead of her guards, leaping onto Onyx's back in a single bound before darting off.

"Very well." With that, he reined his palfrey back towards the garrison.

Belle whistled to Onyx, who was currently striking at a poor squire who was trying to grab him. The stallion's ears perked up instantly and he trotted obediently over to his mistress.

"Princess," Rumpelstiltskin whispered behind her, his voice shaking.

Belle turned around in embarrassment. She'd been so caught up in excitement of simply winning her argument with Alliser that she'd momentarily forgotten the poor man that she'd been arguing _for_.

"Rumpelstiltskin, I'm so sorry. You don't have to come with me. I simply got carried away, and then I thought that I could give you a place to stay, because you can't stay out here in the woods, especially not now that it's getting colder, and the castle really isn't too far away, and you said that you didn't have a place to stay, and…forgive me, gods, I'm rambling." She stopped herself, offering a sheepish shrug. "You're free to do whatever you wish."

Rumpelstiltskin hesitated; his eyes darting to the ground, then back up at her. "May I go with you?"

Belle beamed. "Of course."

"Sir?"

Both of them turned around to face a red-faced Sir Gregory. "You'll be riding with me."

Belle stepped aside, so Rumpelstiltskin could pass.

The young knight was clearly upset with the circumstances, hesitating to offer Rumpelstiltskin his stirrup to climb up on his large warhorse.

"Do deliver him safely for me, sir." Belle called out sweetly, trying to temper the knight's anger at the situation.

Sir Gregory nodded solemnly back at her.

_Never much of a personality on that one_, Belle thought. Not wanting him to punish Rumpelstiltskin though, she reached down to her skirts, and found one of her spare handkerchiefs in her pocket. "Sir Gregory," she said, offering up the piece of silk, "my favor, as a token of my appreciation for your graciousness."

The young knight blushed at the unexpected gesture. "I thank you, your grace," he said, bowing, and missing Belle's quick smile to Rumpelstiltskin behind him.

With that, Sir Gregory gave her a curt nod and trotted off.

Unable to give Rumpelstiltskin any words of comfort from a distance in the knights' presence, Belle could only smile encouragingly at him as she watched him disappear around the corner.

"Any hints as to where you'll be running off tomorrow, princess?"

Belle's smiled dropped from her face and she turned back around at a grinning Sir Alliser.

"If only so I know how many men I should request for tomorrow, of course."

"I believe you'll need none, as it seems that your falcon does all the work," she retorted smartly.

He patted the large bird, and then hoisted him into the air. "Gealem does enjoy a good hunt, princess."

"That's cheating you know," Belle said, winking at her long-time guardian. "However, I do believe that I might give Onyx a day of rest tomorrow, though. Need to keep his legs fresh and all," she deadpanned, trying with all of her might to hold back a smile as she patted her mount's neck

"Very good, my lady. I'm sure Gealem will appreciate the rest as well." A hint of a smile creased his eyes. "Shall we?" he asked, gesturing in front of him, obviously not trusting her to be out of his sight.

"We shall." She grinned, and then kicked her heels hard in Onyx's side, bolting off at a dead run towards her home: The Kingdom of Avonlea.


	2. Chapter 2

_This is a dream. This has to be a dream._

Rumpelstiltskin rubbed his eyes, and looked around the warm furnished room again. _Yes, this must be a dream._ There was just no other explanation for why he was now lying in a warm bed, safe in the castle's royal servants' quarters, as a guest of the princess.

_Gods, how hard did I hit my head?_

He closed his eyes again, deciding to let himself succumb to this wonderful dream for a brief moment before it was taken away from him. The wide-eyed expressions of the men he passed by on the way to this room was answer enough that this was sure to happen sooner rather than later, no matter what assurances the princess gave him.

The thought of the lovely princess made Rumpelstiltskin flashback to the last time he saw her, smiling at him over her shoulder before she had disappeared into the castle, flanked by guards on all sides. Afterwards, instead of being cast aside as he had expected, he had been given a full meal, a change of clothing, and a warm bed within the castle walls.

The luxury of sleeping in a safe, warm bed was a gift in and of itself. He couldn't recall the last time that he hadn't spent the night on the cold, hard ground. If the princess did indeed wish to "reward" him for whatever reason, then she had already done so, and had certainly given him more than any man, such as himself, deserved. The thought anyone would even spare him a glance, let alone want to help him, made Rumpelstiltskin want to collapse at the princess' feet in gratitude, wanting to confess that he wasn't worthy of any of this, but the coward in him made him stay silent.

It was only when his escort, upon delivering him to his new quarters, had given Rumpelstiltskin a note, sealed in red wax, that he had finally uttered a word aloud, admitting that he needed it read to him. Never had he felt so embarrassed, but the man had kindly opened the note and read it to him without comment.

The note was written in the most beautiful script Rumpelstiltskin had ever seen. He was mesmerized by the craftsmanship of it. It wasn't until he heard the words "stay here" that he had snapped back from his examination, asking the man to repeat what he had read again.

It seemed that as a reward for "catching" the princess' prized steed, Rumpelstiltskin was to be given his choice of reward: coin, or a post in the royal stables. His mind whirled, telling him that he didn't deserve either, but his escort told him that his answer was expected in the morning. Upon that, the man had left him in his room to rest.

As much as he wanted to stay in this wonderful place, with its kind people and beautiful princess, Rumpelstiltskin knew that there was no place for him here. Once they heard of him, they would want him gone. Cowards were not well-liked men. This, he knew and accepted.

Even if he could stay, there was no way that he could accept the position that they had offered him. The princess' high praise of him in her false account of him "catching" her stallion with such ease had painted him as though he was magically inclined towards horse husbandry. If he stayed, the truth would be found out within moments: Rumpelstiltskin was no better handling horses, than slaying dragons. His lone experience handling any horse had been today, and he hadn't even touched the beast and he had been absolutely terrified. Riding home, he had clung for his life the entire way back castle on the back of the knight's horse. The one, and only, thing that he was inclined to doing was hiding.

The memory of the ride forced Rumpelstiltskin's hand in his decision. Unable to bear the thought of the princess' face once she discovered him for what he was, he would give his thanks, and then leave at first light. If she truly wanted to give him a reward, a chance to look at her one more time, so he could commit her kind, beautiful face to memory was reward enough.

Restless, Rumpelstiltskin rolled onto his side, triggering another sharp pang of pain from his wound that reverberated through his skull. Now, _that_ wasn't supposed to happen in a dream, he thought. Or maybe this was just a very realistic dream. He'd already experienced several lifetimes' worth of those from the war, but none of those ended this nicely.

He touched his throbbing head gingerly, probing to see if any blood had soaked through the bandages. Thankfully, it seemed dry; the princess' dressing was holding up to the task. His skin was warm, but not too hot to touch, which he took as a good sign as well.

The pull of sleep soon became too strong to resist and Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes. He felt himself begin to drift off when a bright light flashed against his closed eyelids, and he froze, jolting wide-awake.

Opening his eyes, Rumpelstiltskin covered his face with his forearm, peeking through nook of his elbow to watch the flickering light sway underneath his doorsill. Suddenly, it stilled; its source blocked by a large, black shadow.

A muffled groan, followed by the thump of something large hitting the ground, sounded from right behind the door.

Rumpelstiltskin gasped, looking over to his sleeping roommates, hoping that they were hearing this too, but they remained still, not so much as stirring at the noise. He glanced around for an exit, his entire body shaking with fear as he confirmed that he was trapped in this windowless room.

Just as he thought that the threat was over, the door budged, slowly creaking open halfway to reveal a large, shadowy arm framed against the light.

_Oh gods!_

A dark, hooded figure entered the room silently, swinging his a small lantern in Rumpelstiltskin's direction, blinding him in the darkness, and then extinguished it, bathing the room in darkness.

Rumpelstiltskin was utterly terrified. With his stomach in his throat and his limbs frozen, petrified in terror, he watched the dark figure walk into the room. _Go away. Please go away._

The dark outline ignored his silent plea, creeping silently towards the two other beds instead. At each bed, the figure's arm shot out, as quickly as a snake, and covered the sleeping man's face. Each man fought for only a brief moment before going completely still.

_Oh gods_, Rumpelstiltskin prayed, squeezing his eyes shut, unable to watch anymore.

The drumming of his heartbeat drowned out his ability to hear, but not enough to be unable to hear the assassin's footsteps shuffling towards his bed.

"Rumpelstiltskin," the deep voice growled.

_He knows my name!_ Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes harder in terror, trying to will the man away.

"Get up. Follow me."

Unable to stop shaking, Rumpelstiltskin slit his eyes open to face his attacker. He couldn't see anything. The man was a mere shadow amongst the darkness.

"Come," he commanded again, but Rumpelstiltskin was unable to comply. He simply couldn't move.

The figure groaned in frustration, and then picked him straight up off the bed with one arm, landing him on his feet. He forced a garment into his hands, which Rumpelstiltskin discerned quickly to be a cloak of some kind.

"Put it on."

Numb with fear, Rumpelstiltskin struggled to put the simple garment on. After he finished dressing, the man grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and thrust him forward through the open door.

The hooded man closed the door behind them and re-lit his lantern, though it gave Rumpelstiltskin no better view of his abductor's face, which was deeply hidden within his dark robes. "Move," the man said, pushing him forward again.

Rumpelstiltskin balked, looking down in shock at a slumped over body blocking the hallway. The light gave him a partial view of the man that had been one of the castle's guards; he was huge, and armed, but was now lying dead due to the man behind him. He panted, unable to find his breath, as his anxiety threatened to overwhelm him.

The hooded man growled in anger at his hesitation, and took him by the arm, pulling him forcefully over the body. He didn't let go either, taking Rumpelstiltskin through several dark passages, each "guarded" by a slumped over soldier.

After a seemingly endless walk, the hooded man came to an abrupt halt. "Hold this," he ordered, handing over the lantern.

Rumpelstiltskin complied, trying keep it as still as possible as he watched the man feel along the wall, finally pressing an indistinct block into the wall. He heard a soft clicking noise, and then man pushed the entire wall forward, revealing a dark passage. Without glancing back, he motioned for Rumpelstiltskin to follow him through the opening, closing it immediately once they were on the other side.

Once through, Rumpelstiltskin found himself in a tight tunnel of pure darkness, with only the small lantern behind him to guide his path. The dark, moist walls gave off a musty, foul aroma of decay. He took a halting step forward, discovering that the floor sloped slightly downward. _He's taking me to the dungeon_, Rumpelstiltskin realized, feeling his stomach clench at the thought. No doubt, a smarter man would've realized earlier that no royal would ever want any part of him. He sighed, shaking his head. He should have known, but now it was no use. His fate was sealed.

Unable to flee, he continued to walk slowly down the passageway for an agonizingly long time, during which Rumpelstiltskin became more and more resigned to the knowledge that his sad life was about to come to an end in the next couple moments.

Suddenly though, the air changed, and a fresh, cool breeze blew against his face, confusing him. His captor grabbed shoulder, making Rumpelstiltskin flinch instinctively with fear.

"'ver here," the man said, directing him right, towards the tunnel's wall. He lifted up his lantern, revealing a rusted metal door inlayed along the wall, and covered in black moss.

_It's a cell. It has to be a cell, _Rumpelstiltskin thought, watching the hooded man pull out a large set of keys. The man turned the key, and then opened the door easily.

Rumpelstiltskin balked in confusion. He turned around to the man, not knowing if it was some sort of trap, but the man simply sighed again and pushed him through, out into the warm summer night.

He took one step, then another, still not sure what was going on. The traitorous thought that the man might be letting him go free slipped through his mind, before it was squashed promptly a second later when he was forced to his knees on the wet grass.

He closed his eyes, waiting for whatever was to come. At least, he thought bleakly, he was able to die outdoors, and not in a dark cell; be able to have a soft breeze on his face on last time.

"Is this 'im?"

Rumpelstiltskin's head snapped up. He watched as small, dark figure emerged from the mist and walked confidently up to them, stopping a stone's throw away.

The figure nodded.

"Do you have what I asked for?"

In response, the figure produced a small pouch from their coat, and lifting it up, swinging it from their fingers.

His captor hummed with excitement. "Is it all there?"

The dark figure nodded and tossed the pouch in reply. It struck Rumpelstiltskin's thigh, landing right in front of him. He tried to see what it was, but before he could get a glance at it, his captor snatched it away from him.

The man grunted in approval, and then thrust Rumpelstiltskin forward onto his side. "He's all yours."

_Oh gods,_ Rumpelstiltskin cried, shutting his eyes tight, not wanting, or able, to see what new master he had been traded too.

Light footsteps shuffled the grass in front of him, before he heard the person kneel down, their robe "whooshing" as they sat before him.

"Are you hurt?" a soft voice asked.

_What? No, it couldn't be_. Startled, he looked up, not believing the voice he had heard.

"Rumpelstiltskin, it's me," the cloaked figure said, placing a light hand gently on his shoulder, while the other removed the dark hood, revealing none other than the princess. "Oh, gods, you're shaking!" she said, her eyes widening in horror. "I am so sorry!"

"Wha—?" he replied dumbly.

"Rumpelstiltskin, it's me, Belle," she repeated again.

As if he could forget. His mouth gaped in disbelief, finding himself to do anything else. Only mere moments ago, he had thought that he was being sent to his execution, and now he was looking at a woman that he'd sworn he would never lay eyes on again. "Princess?" he breathed back finally, still unable to get out a coherent sentence.

"Here," she said, pulling him up gently. "We must go quickly before we are spotted. I'm certain that Garan covered his tracks, but we must not linger in the open."

His fear must have been plain on his face for Belle's expression softened immediately, and smiled at him, squeezing his hand.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you like this, but this was the only way that I could talk to you," she whispered. "I'll explain further, but we must go now."

He nodded and followed her awkwardly around the castle's walls, and down an unmarked path into the meadow. They crisscrossed several times and then back again; her sudden course changes causing him to bump her several times, making his cheeks burn with embarrassment. He still had no idea what was going on—why the princess would be talking to him, let alone seeking him out, but he couldn't find the courage to ask.

After following her for nearly a half hour, Belle stopped abruptly at the edge of a tree line. She stood still, as if looking for something hidden in the trees, and then huffed in annoyance, giving a low whistle into the trees. It seemed to not have the effect she wanted, and she muttered under her breath. Waiting a moment, she brought her fingers to her mouth and whistled again. This time, a rhythmic pounding answered her, starting from within the forest and toward them at a rapid rate.

Rumpelstiltskin crouched back in fear, but Belle's small hand reached out, holding him steady, as a jet-black palfrey broke from the tree line and raced towards them, its long mane flying, followed by another larger, more familiar destier. The horses slowed their pace approaching them, coming to a halt in front of Belle. The elegant black palfrey was abruptly pushed out of the way from behind by Onyx, eager to greet his mistress.

Belle gave her mount a pat on his head, and then turned around towards Rumpelstiltskin. "Have you ever ridden before?"

Embarrassed, he lowered his eyes and shook his head.

"No matter. You'll be fine. Thames is very kind and he will take care of you on your journey."

_Journey?_ Rumpelstiltskin's heart plummeted in his chest, and he felt sick. She was sending him away. Not that he should be surprised, but the hurt was there regardless. He glanced up, feeling his heart sink more, seeing how the princess wouldn't even look at him.

"I realized that I never gave you a say on whether you wanted to come here or not this afternoon," she said quietly, her eyes darting up to his for a moment before looking away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I don't want to keep you here if you wish to journey elsewhere. I've packed enough provisions for at least a week, and there's coin in the bags for you to use," she said, handing him the palfrey's reins.

"Wha…what?"

"Take him," she said. "He'll be able to take you wherever you want to go."

Rumpelstiltskin backed away from her outstretched hand. "I…I couldn't."

"I insist," she said, following him forward. "Please."

He shook his head, trying to clear his head. She couldn't possibly be offering him all of this. The palfrey alone was worth a sizable fortune; more money that Rum had ever heard about, let alone possessed in his entire lifetime. "I don't….why are you doing this?"

Belle's mouth opened and closed, a flash of hurt crossing her features. She paused, forcing a determined smiling on her face, and offered the reins again. "Because everyone deserves to decide their own fate."

_Not cowards, princess_, he thought, shaking his head sadly. "M'lady, you've done more for me than anyone ever has. There's no need to worry yourself over the likes of me. If you wish me gone, then I will leave you at once," he whispered, resigned.

Belle's blue eyes widened in alarm. "Wish you gone? No! Gods, no! Is that what you thought?" She closed her eyes, and sighed, offering him an apologetic smile. "I'm not very good at this, am I? What I mean to say, is that the choice is yours. I only wish to give you the choice to do as you please."

Every cowardly impulse in his body was screaming at him to thank her and walk away. He swallowed, unable to find the words. Looking upwards, he met her kind eyes, and felt his apology die on his lips. "I know nothing of working in a stable," he said, surprising himself.

"What?"

"Your offer, m'lady, to stay and work for you. I know nothing of it," he said quietly, feeling his body quake with nerves. "I'm only a spinner. It's the only trade I've ever known."

Her lips quirked upwards, forming a small smile. "Is that your only reservation to staying?"

_No._ "I don't wish to disappoint you, m'lady."

Her smile blossomed on her face, crinkling her eyes. "You could never do that," she said, shaking her head emphatically.

It was so genuine, Rumpelstiltskin almost believed it, but then remembered who he was. _If you only knew, princess, you'd never say that._

"What's wrong?" she asked, picking up on his melancholy mood instantly. "You'll be happy here. I swear it."

He forced a smile, and gave a little bow. "I'd never doubt you, m'lady."

"Well good, because I hope you will be very happy here, and fit in very well."

"But, I don't…m'lady, today was the first time I rode a horse. How am I to work in the stables?"

"Well, you won't be in the main stables. I told Sir Alliser that I wanted you to tend to my horses. They're are stabled separately from the soldiers'. It's quiet and there are good, kind people who work there. And you'll earn more than enough coin to do whatever you want, should you wish to leave."

"I..um…" He swallowed, feeling sheepish. "I don't wish that."

"I don't wish that either," Belle said, beaming back at him. "So? Shall we?"

"Shall we, what?"

"Well, there's much for me to teach you and very little time for you to learn it. We have only a few hours before Garan must escort you back."

"Garan?" he asked, hoping that she didn't mean the cloaked man.

"The man who collected you for me."

He flinched, unable to stop himself.

"Did he hurt you, Rumpelstiltskin?"

"No, m'lady. It's just…" he trailed off, his mind flashing to the numerous bodies in the hall. "He killed those men," he said, adding a, "m'lady," in embarrassment.

Belle looked at him in confusion and alarm. "Killed? Oh, no, no! Just a sleeping tonic, I assure you. I gave it to Garan, myself. When inhaled in strong doses it's quite effective."

Rumpelstiltskin blinked, not sure if he just heard her correctly.

"Don't worry," Belle continued, waving him off. "Garan is a loyal friend. Gruff, and with no sense of humor, I must confess, but extremely loyal and up to any task, especially if you have what he wants most." Belle grinned at him, pausing, as if she was expecting an answer, but then reached down into her dark cloak and produced another smaller bundle.

It was similar to the one she tossed his abductor, he noted, accepting it cautiously from her hands.

"You may look. Just be careful smelling it."

Embarrassed by his cowardice, he untied the bundle slowly, revealing a strange, fragrant aroma. He tried sniffing it closer to get a better scent, only to have a whiff drifted into his nose, causing a coughing and sneezing fit. "Gods, what _is_ that?" he asked, sneezing again, giving her back the bundle.

"Pepper," she explained, biting back a hiccup of laughter. "I'm sorry. You must have gotten some in your nose. It's not harmful. Just a spice." She dabbed her finger in her mouth, and put it in the bag, pulling it back out to reveal a fine, black powder.

Rumpelstiltskin had heard of it in his trades at the market, but had never seen it, let alone so much of it at one place at one time. The small bundle was worth a year's worth of his wages. "He may have it all," he said, coughing again, never wanting to smell that spice again.

Belle laughed. "I should've warned you. I'm sorry."

Rumpelstiltskin couldn't help but laugh along at himself too. It felt good to laugh; he couldn't remember the last time he did. Another ill-timed sneeze caused them both to collapse into another fit of laughter, spooking the horses standing nearby. "Will it ever stop?"

"Ye…yes," Belle choked out, barely able to get in a breath between her full-bodied laughs. Rumpelstiltskin had never heard a more beautiful sound. Even in the darkness, the princess radiated light, and he couldn't help but be drawn in.

Composing herself, Belle caught the two horses. "Well, shall we?"

"We're going to ride them?"

"Why, yes. I mean, now's a good enough time to start learning than any, especially if I am to teach you before dawn breaks."

Rumpelstiltskin tensed up immediately.

"You'll be fine. Don't worry," Belle said, walking the palfrey alongside Rumpelstiltskin. She stopped, and held her hand by his leg. "Here—give me your leg."

Confused, Rumpelstiltskin stood still, before nearly collapsing in shock as the princess ran her hand along his leg, moving him to bend at the knee.

"Now, hold onto these," she instructed softly, holding the reins at the horse's neck.

He did as told, gripping the reins tightly.

"Alright, I'm going to boost you up."

He had barely enough time to acknowledge her, before she launched him nearly clear over the back of the horse. Thankfully, the fine animal stood still, allowing him time to right himself in the center.

"See?" Belle said, looking up at him from the ground and smiling encouragingly. "Nothing to it."

Rumpelstiltskin tried to smile back, but could only manage to nod; he was still too focused on holding the reins tight as to not allow the horse to bolt off without him. Glancing up for a moment, he watched Belle walk over to Onyx, grab a lock of his mane, and then leap onto his back, landing gracefully as if it had been no trouble at all.

"Ready?" she asked, smiling back at him.

He gulped in return, not daring to move.

"Now just put your hand forward, and give him a little squeeze," she instructed calmly, walking her horse alongside his.

Taking a deep breath, and gripping his reins, he did as told—an nothing happened.

"A little harder, maybe. Just a little tap."

He tried again. This time, his stallion walked off promptly into a slow, lazy gait. _Good boy. That's a good boy._

"Perfect! See? You're a natural!" she beamed at him. "Now, follow me."

_Gods, that smile is going to be the death of me_, he thought, watching her walk ahead to guide him, her auburn hair glistening in the moonlight. It was a dream, truly a fantasy, he knew, but for the first time in his life, Rumpelstiltskin didn't want to run, or hide. Because for the first time in his life, he felt…happy.


	3. Chapter 3

"M'lady? Princess? The king has requested you."

Belle rubbed her eyes, letting out a groan of protest at the soft, faraway voice, and gentle shaking. "'ot yet," she murmured, rolling onto her stomach and burying her head in the pillow.

She sighed, feeling instant relief from closing her eyes once again. She was exhausted, having only slept for a couple hours, after sneaking in before dawn. The lack of rest made her head pound, and all of her limbs feel as if they were filled with lead. She couldn't recall the last time she'd felt so exhausted, but then, she couldn't recall the last night when she'd had so little sleep.

Not that it wasn't worth it, she thought, smiling to herself as she recalled the previous night. Admittedly, it hadn't been the best idea to have Garan kidnap Rumpelstiltskin from his room, but then she couldn't think of another plausible way for her to talk to him alone. Now, she could only hope that he wouldn't turn and run away from her when he saw her next; the poor man had nearly died of fright the last two times they'd met.

Despite that though, Rumpelstiltskin had proved a quick study. When he had admitted shyly that he couldn't read her instructions, Belle had improvised, drawing sketches for him of the various parts of equipment and chores that he might encounter. By the end of the evening, he had mastered nearly every task she gave him. If not for the knowing that he had never worked in a stable before, he could have fooled anyone.

"M'lady?" her maid asked again quietly.

Belle sighed, and rolled over towards her. "Yes, Lorraine?"

"The king requests that you come down to his chambers at once."

_Oh yes, _that_._ A sharp twinge of fear shot through her. Her father never requested her presence this early unless she was in trouble, which was more often than she'd care to admit. _Did he know?_ She'd been so careful covering her tracks last night, nearly half the castle had slept deeply last night thanks to her and her friend's hand. "Did he say why?"

"No, m'lady. His man came early this morning, instructing that you visit him as soon as you rise."

"Very good, Lorraine. Thank you for waking me." She yawned again, rubbing her eyes. They felt like sandpaper.

"M'lady, are you unwell?"

"What?" Belle blinked.

The maid pointed at her eyes. "Your eyes are bloodshot and you look pale. Maybe you should rest instead. I'll tell them that you're unwell."

"No, Lorraine, I'm fine. I must have just been in the fields for too long, yesterday," she hedged. As tempting as it was to lie in order to stay away from her father, Belle knew that there was no avoiding him forever. She would do the brave thing and face the consequences.

"Very good, m'lady. I shall draw you a bath, then."

"That would be wonderful, Lorraine. Thank you."

Belle watched her maid walk into the next room, and then rolled onto her back, collapsing again into her mountain of pillows.

_Do the brave thing_, she reminded herself. Her father had been the one to teach her to do the brave thing after all, even if the brave thing at the moment was explaining to her father why she had met a man she barely knew in the middle of the night. Color rose to her cheeks at the thought. It was rather scandalous if she thought of it like that, but deep down she knew that it wasn't—not that her father would care of the difference.

She groaned, covering her eyes, knowing what his reaction was going to be once he found out. _Oh, he is going to confine me to my rooms for a year_! How was she supposed to explain to him why she had felt this need to help a man that she had barely known for a day, when she herself had yet to find an explanation for it?

The deep pang of sadness that she had felt when she had tried to let Rumpelstiltskin go last night, replaced by the utter joy when she had realized that he wanted to stay, confused her to no end. She didn't know this man, yet he felt familiar to her already. Perhaps, it was his kind and gentle nature. Those qualities in a person were rare, no matter how much he tried to downplay them to her. It made her wish for her mother, or for someone that she could talk to about this, but alas, she had no one.

"M'lady, your bath is ready."

"Thank you, Lorraine," she said, shaking herself from her thoughts as she rose from her bed. Gods knew a long bath would do her good. Plus, she needed as much time as possible to come up with a reasonable explanation, because the truth right now wasn't going to work.

…

After partaking in nearly an hour-long bath that left her fingers laughably pruned, and trying on nearly every dress in her wardrobe, Belle had yet to find a reasonable explanation. Resigned to her fate, she gave up procrastinating and opened her doors, finding six armed guards waiting outside.

The lead knight stepped forward and bowed. "M'lady,"

"Sir Reginald," she replied back, curtseying. "He's that afraid that I'll run away again?" she laughed, looking pointedly at all the men.

"You are quite formidable, m'lady."

Belle shook her head. "You flatter me, sir," she said, chuckling again as she fell into step with the guard. The others surrounded them, flanking her on all sides. The excessiveness of her entourage was ridiculous, bordering on the absurd, but Belle took it as a compliment. Her father certainly wasn't taking any chances that she would have the opportunity to sneak out again.

They walked in silence, winding through the castle to her father's personal chambers, located on the opposite side of her own. The long walk did nothing to help calm her nerves. By the time they arrived to the two ornately-carved golden doors, she felt as if she was about to be sick; a guilty, nauseous feeling was eating her up from the inside and there was no relief in sight.

"M'lady," her father's guards greeted her in turn, opening the doors for with great flourish, revealing an immense room, bathed in golden light that streamed in from its high, tapestry-framed windows.

Her father and his commander were deep in quiet conversation at the center table, looking down at the maps and charts that covered the large table in its entirety.

"Good morning, Father," she called out brightly, trying to quell the butterflies in her stomach with fake enthusiasm.

The king looked up immediately, a wide smile blossoming on his face. "Ahh, my beautiful daughter. I'm so glad that you were finally able to join me."

"Forgive me, Father. I overslept."

He walked over to her, and smiled, running his hands up and down her arms. "Oh, I could never be mad at you for long, my Belle. Thank you, Alliser, that will be all," he said, dismissing his knight standing behind him.

The silver-haired knight solemnly bowed and left them, the large doors closing behind him with a resounding boom.

"What did you wish to tell me, Father?"

"Can't a man simply ask to enjoy the company of his favorite daughter?"

"His _only _daughter, don't you mean?" she teased.

He laughed. "An even greater reason for you to be my favorite! Now tell me, what is this that I hear of you riding into the Dark Forest again?"

_Here it goes._ "Father—"

"Belle, what have I told you about this?" His deep voice rose in anger. "It is dangerous in that forest, especially by yourself."

"I know how to defend myself."

He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. "My brave girl, the Dark Forest is not some place from one of your books. It is dangerous. It is no place for men traveling alone, let alone fine young ladies. Your wits may protect you to a point, but there are men and creatures in those woods that would kill you without hesitation. Even_ I_ would be unmatched by some of the gangs that roam those woods." The king walked away to the table. "War is coming to our borders, Belle. As much as I'm trying to avoid it, it will most likely happen nonetheless. Should it occur, you'll be even more at risk. Our enemies would like nothing more than to take you hostage or kill you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Papa."

He turned around, his eyes softening. "I don't wish to keep you caged up here. I only want to keep you safe, Belle. You're all I have left."

She nodded, biting her lip, the memory of her mother filling her with even more guilt.

"All I ask is for you to stop running away from Sir Alliser's men. If you wish to ride, take a guard. Sir Alliser has offered you your pick of his men should you wish to explore. I'm sure that there's at least one man that you find agreeable in that lot. Now, are we in agreement?"

"Yes, Father," she said sincerely.

"And no more of this nonsense playing hide-and-seek in the Dark Forest. There are plenty of better places to go hide. Safer places…such as your room."

She laughed. "My _room_? What would be the fun in that?"

"It would be much fun. You would win every time! And if you didn't, I would send the victor to the racks immediately."

"Father!" she cried, slapping his arm. "You're horrible."

"Only stating the obvious, my dear. Gods know what I've done for being punishing with having such a beautiful daughter. And since you insist on running all of your suitors off, it is up to me to protect you."

She rolled her eyes at him in jest. "I don't run them off."

"You don't?"

Belle shrugged. "Well, it's not my fault that they're all buffoons that can't keep up!"

The large man chuckled and shook his head; he turned away, walking over to a small table to pour himself cup of wine. "And this stray man that you brought home with you yesterday, he can?"

Belle froze in panic. "He's not… he didn't…it's not like that…" she stammered, her words becoming jumbled in her mouth. "He rescued Onyx for me."

"Rescued Onyx?" he asked coyly, raising his eyebrow in question. "How'd he manage that?"

"Onyx spooked and ran off as I was getting water from the stream. I called out for him, but he didn't come. I'd almost given up hope, when this man, Rumpelstiltskin, found him and brought him back to me."

"Ah ha. I see. And this man…Rumpelstiltskin, is it? He still has all of his limbs intact? Onyx didn't tear any of them off?"

"Father!" she chided. "Onyx would never!"

"That bloody animal has done worse and you know it. The only reason that I haven't gotten rid of him is because of his knack for protecting you. Now, the truth, girl—out with it. How did you come upon this man?"

Belle bit her lip, trying to block the truth from spilling from her lips, but her father's piercing gaze was too much to bear. "I found him unconscious by the hidden falls."

Her father shut his eyes and groaned.

"He was _hurt_, Father! And he's a good man—I swear it! I only wished to help him."

"My dear daughter, the rider of beasts, and protector of wounded men; whatever am I going to do with you?"

"Please don't punish him, Father. It's not his fault. I was the one to bring him here."

The king sighed and shook his head. "And risk your wrath? I wouldn't dream of it."

"You promise?" she asked.

"I swear it. No harm will come to him on my behalf," her father said, taking her hands, and squeezing them in reassurance. "Now, tell me more of this man. Where are you hiding him?"

"In the stables."

"The stables? Now there's a surprise!" he laughed.

"Sirio mentioned that he needed some help, so I thought that it would be a good place for him. He's a good man, Father. I swear it."

He kissed her brow. "Don't worry, my dear. I don't doubt your assessment. Sir Alliser echoed the same sentiments to me earlier. You know, your mother was the same way—could always see the good in people. I trust that you have the same gift."

Belle hugged him gratefully. "Thank you, Father."

He returned her embrace. "Now," he said, pulling away. "I must speak to you of one more thing before you run off once again. I received a letter from King Gaston this morning; he is due to arrive here in a fortnight."

"King Gaston? Why is he coming?" The vain king grated on Belle's nerves to no end.

"Oh, I venture because he wants to share his delightful company with you once again, of course. I know how much you've missed him."

Belle huffed, crossing her arms.

Her father chuckled back, but then his expression turned serious. "War, my dear. He comes for war. Should the ogres cross the Blue Mountains, his army may be needed for our protection. We've had reports that they ogres have advanced and taken the Northlands recently. I suspect that he wants to discuss this. We may have no choice but to form an alliance with him, so I will have to ask you for your patience. Please don't go missing like last time, eh?"

"That man is a peacock with more cruelty than brains! What _possible_ use could he be as an ally?" She's never found a more vile man than King Gaston. The thought of spending a mere second more in his presence made her skin crawl.

"More than you know, so you should try and contain your excitement over his arrival, my dear," he chuckled. "You have two weeks to practice."

She huffed again, louder, and rolled her eyes.

He patted her on the cheek. "You're going to have to do a little better than that."

Belle forced a smile to her face, and curtseyed deeply.

"See? I knew you had it in you!" He laughed, and poured himself some more wine. "Enough of that business. It looks like it will be a pleasant day for a ride, wouldn't you say?" he said, gesturing towards the windows. "How about you go run along and see how your stray is coming along?"

Belle smiled, feeling instant relief at her dismissal. "Yes, father."

"Now, don't go pull a vanishing act on your guards again," he said, arching his eyebrow knowingly at her.

"I won't. I promise, Father."

"Very well. Off with you now. You better get down there before your beast destroys gods know what, because you haven't attended to him yet."

"Thank you, Papa," she said, walking over and giving her father a quick kiss on the cheek. With that, she left the massive chamber, finding herself flanked immediately by Alliser's men.

"Where to, Princess?" Sir Alliser asked.

"The stables," Belle said with a smile. "It seems to be a nice day for a ride." Behind her, she heard a knight groan.

…

Belle had never changed into her riding clothes so quickly. Accompanied by three of Alliser's men, she walked briskly through the castle's corridors and halls until she was outside in the brisk, morning air.

It was only a short walk to the royal stables, which were separated from the main one that housed the knights' mounts. An unusual arrangement to be sure, but one that Belle's father had deemed necessary after it had become clear that no amount of threats or locks could keep his daughter in her room and away from the stables. So in honor of her twelfth name day, he had built her a grand stone building, a welcome sanctuary where she spent most of her days.

Her royal guard announced her arrival before Belle could enter the granite barn. The thick aroma of hay and horses greeted her as she walked through the doors like an old friend. Oh, how she loved it here! She scanned the area, hoping to see a glimpse of Rumpelstiltskin among the numerous pages scurrying about the area.

"Ahh, Princess!" a thickly accented voice called out behind her. "Good morning to you."

Belle turned around and smiled immediately. "Good morning to you too, Sirio."

The short, dark-haired, exotic-looking groom bowed deeply, waving his hands with a flourish.

Belle giggled and shook her head at his familiar antics.

"Your Onyx is tired this morning, Princess," he said, leading the stallion out of his stall. "He hasn't tried to bite me once, yet."

Belle laughed again, and walked over to cradle her Onyx's head in her arms. "You mean this sweet thing tries to bite you?"

"He tries." Sirio winked, handing over the reins. "But I am too quick for him."

The stallion snorted, as if offended.

"That you are," Belle agreed. She looked around again. "How is the new man I sent you getting along?"

"Rumpelstiltskin? Very well, m'lady. He's a very hard worker," he said, his thick accent lacing every word. "Saddled Onyx here for you. Even brought him in this morning all by himself. "

Belle swelled with pride that Rumpelstiltskin remembered all of her hurried lessons from the night before. "That's wonderful!"

"You have no need to remind me of that, Princess. I only wish that you brought him to me sooner."

"Is he around here, Sirio? So I may thank him?"

"No, but I will have him brought here at once."

"No, no, there's no need of that," she said, waving him off, not wanting to embarrass Rumpelstiltskin by putting him in the spotlight. "I'll see to it later."

"Yes, m'lady." He bowed, and moved to the front of the impatient, holding it still for her while she mounted. "Have a good ride, Princess."

"Thank you, Sirio." Settling herself in the saddle, Belle turned to her lead escort, waiting patiently off to the side. "I'll just ride in the fields, and then read for a while, if that's acceptable to you?"

A golden-haired knight gave her a curt nod. "It is, m'lady. We will not disturb you as long as you stay within eyesight."

"You are most kind, Sir Theron. I'll be sure to stay within your view."

The knight blushed slightly at being called out by name, clearly unfamiliar to compliment.

Giving her escort one last smile, Belle turned Onyx way from the group and rode out into the large meadow behind the stable. The tall grass extended for nearly a mile to the dark tree line, with snow-capped mountains peaking over the tops of the pines. Even though it was a day's ride to the oceanfront, Belle could almost detect a faint hint of the sea on the breeze.

She clucked Onyx forward, lengthening his stride. A quick glance over her shoulder proved that Theron was indeed holding to his word. Although her small escort was now mounted in wait, they had not followed. Really, his small request was far less than what Belle had expected him to ask from her. A little obedience could go a long way, she thought, if she was to have this guard with her now at all times.

She looked over her shoulder again, making sure that she was still within their view, and then halted Onyx on the far side of the field. She gave the stallion a little pat in thanks, and dismounted, removing her book from her satchel.

Thankfully, the morning dew had evaporated, providing her with a nice place to lie down and read. The book, _The Songs of Magourlis_, was admittedly a strange choice for a princess, but then, Belle had never been a conventional—only practical—and if her father said that the ogre war was coming, well then, she was going to brush up on her history of great battles. The heavy book was a lovely, illustrated tome, which detailed all of the greatest victories in the land. She chose a chapter describing the great battle of Sorne, when the late King Ranghor had defeated an ogre army. It seemed fitting enough.

"Hey, there. What are you doing out here?"

Belle smiled at Rumpelstiltskin's soft voice, and pushed herself up on her elbows to see him. "I'm—"

"Here you go, come here…good boy."

_Oh._ She stood up, seeing him try to grab Onyx's bridle. "It's okay. He's with me."

Rumpelstiltskin jumped back shock at the sight of her, stumbling nearly to the ground, before he staggered back up. "Princess!" he exclaimed, breathless.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," she said, flinching in embarrassment. _Is there ever going to be a time when I _don't_ scare this poor man?_

"It's no matter, m'lady," he said, shaking his head, while keeping his eyes averted from her. "It was my mistake. I will leave you to rest."

"Wait," she said, halting him in place. "Stay for a moment. Please?"

Rumpelstiltskin looked nervously between her and the stables, clearly unsure.

"Don't fret. I'll tell them that I required your assistance. You won't be punished, I swear. Sirio is a fair man, and, plus, he knows that I'm quite persuasive," she said, adding a conspiratorial wink.

He let out a shaky breath and nodded, his lips quirking upwards in an obvious attempt to smile.

She sat back down, patting the ground beside her to signal him to join her. "How are you today, Rumpelstiltskin? I hear that you are settling in well."

He hesitated for a long moment, before slowly joining her. "I am, m'lady. Thank you. I—"

"Yes?" Belle prodded gently.

He darted his tongue out, wetting his lips nervously. "I…I can't tell you how grateful I am for helping me. So…very grateful." His voice broke on the last word, tugging at Belle's heartstrings.

She reached across, and grabbed his trembling hand, giving it a gentle squeezing it. He looked up at her with glistening eyes. "You're a good man, Rumpelstiltskin. You deserve happiness in your life. I am only too glad to help."

His breath caught, and he tried to pull his hand back, but Belle held his hand steady, not letting go. "You're too kind, Princess. Too kind for an old man, such as myself."

"You're not old!" Belle laughed, squeezing his hand. "A little banged up, maybe."

"Perhaps," he agreed, chuckling back.

"So, is Sirio treating you well?"

"Very well, m'lady."

"I've known him for most of my life. You can trust him. He will treat you fairly, and you may go to him with any questions you may have. He tells me that he's pleased with your work too."

His face lit up in surprise. "Truly, m'lady?"

"Indeed. He was quite impressed that you were able to catch Onyx."

"Well, you showed me—"

"Shh…" she said, pressing a finger to her lips in jest. "That's our secret."

He bowed his head, his lips pulling into a shy smile. "Of course, m'lady."

"Belle."

"What?'

"My name. Just Belle. There's no need to call me 'my lady' when there is only grass besides us for company. Please."

"Yes…Belle," he said, drawing the word slowly out, as if pained him to say it.

"See? Now we may be friends." This seemed to give him a start and his eyes darted up to hers in alarm. "What? What is it?"

"I…uh…"

"Rumpelstiltskin, if I've made you uncomfortable—"

"No. It's just…I've never had a friend before."

"Oh." Her heart clenched again, but she recovered quickly. "Well, you do now."

His bright smile at her answer made her heart clench again, but this time in pure joy that she could bring this kind man so much happiness for simply agreeing to be his friend. It made her want to do something else to earned another one of his hard-earned smiles.

"What are you reading?" he asked quietly after a long moment.

Belle looked at her book in surprise, half-forgetting that she had even been reading it. "Oh, it's a book of famous wars. I've been reading about the Battle of Sorne."

Rumpelstiltskin looked at her curiously. "You enjoy reading about war?"

"I just enjoy reading." She shrugged. "Although often it's about odd topics I must confess. Would you like to see it?"

He shook his head. "I can't read it."

"No matter. It's illustrated. See?" she said, opening to a beautifully illustrated page, and handing it over to him again.

This time he accepted it, flipping through the pages in silence, until he handed it back to her, eyes down. "War doesn't look like that," he whispered, pain clearly evident in his voice.

"No," she admitted quietly, picking up on his somber attitude. Belle looked at him; his eyes were fixed, staring at the grass. "Were you in a war once?"

Rumpelstiltskin looked up at her in surprise, and then glanced away. "Once," he murmured.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean…I will speak no more of it."

He nodded, lowering his eyes once again. His mood seemed dampened permanently by the subject, and it hurt Belle that she had caused him pain.

"How is your head?" Belle asked, eager to change the subject.

"Better, thank you."

"May I?"

He nodded, moving closer to her so she could inspect the dressing. She examined the wound gently, checking the bandages to make sure that there was no sign of infection. So far it seemed that the cut was healing well.

"Did you put the ointment on?"

He nodded. "I did exactly as you instructed."

"Good. I'll bring more tomorrow."

"Thank you so much for your kindness."

"Oh, hush," Belle said, waving him off. "That's what's friends do for each other, no?"

"I can never repay you for this— for all that you've done for me."

Belle frowned. "Who said that I needed to be repaid? I wanted to help you, so I did. That's all. You don't owe me anything."

He seemed at a loss for what to say. He looked at her as if she was some precious jewel, awestruck, his eyes glistening. She finally had to look away, embarrassed by his attention.

A quivering hand lightly covered hers gently. She looked up at him in surprise, and he jerked his hand away.

"I think I should head back," he said nervously, pushing himself up off the ground.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" Belle interjected quickly, not wanting their meeting to end so soon.

"If you wish."

"I do. I enjoy your company."

"As do I," he breathed, so quietly that Belle thought that she almost imagined it.

"Until tomorrow, then?" she asked, embarrassed of how desperate she sounded to herself.

"Until tomorrow, m'lad…Belle," he whispered, giving her a small bow, before turning quickly and walking back towards the stables

Belle watched him as he walked away, and sighed, finding that her book no longer held any interest to her in light of her thoughts of her new curious, yet utterly confusing, companion. Relaxed, and happier than she had been in the longest time, she laid back in the grass and closed her eyes, her mind filling with pleasant thoughts as she drifted off to sleep in the warm sun.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been almost two weeks since Rumpelstiltskin had arrived in Avonlea and he was…. happy. Yes, happy was the word. He'd heard of the feeling, certainly seen people in his village that could be described as it, but never in his years had he ever thought that he would ever be able experience it himself. Happiness was as foreign a concept to him as bravery; it was something of fairy tales and stories, something not allowed in the cruel world that he lived in.

Belle—he'd allowed himself finally to think of her as Belle, and not 'Princess'—had told him that he would find happiness here, but he hadn't believed her. In truth, he would've settled for anything, if it meant an end to his wandering, but instead, he what he received was so much more. He might have found a home; a place where he truly belonged.

"Pence for your thoughts?"

Rumpelstiltskin jumped in surprise, nearly dropping his oily rag in shock at the sound of the princess' voice. "Wha…what?"

Belle sat gracefully down on the stool next to him, her large skirts billowing around her. "You were smiling to yourself."

"I was?"

"Mm hmm," she smirked, barely able to contain her grin.

"Oh." Embarrassed, he bit his lip, and looked back down to resume polishing the saddle in front of him. The silence that followed was unnerving. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore and chanced a glance over at her. Belle was still raising a pointed eyebrow at him. "I was just thinking to myself," he murmured, ducking away again from her searching gaze. If he looked at her any longer, he might just confess everything.

"Yes, you were," Belle chuckled softly. "Must have been a nice thought."

He couldn't help but let another smile escape across his face. "It was," he agreed.

"I didn't see you in the field today."

"I was working on this," he said, gesturing to the brightly oiled saddle in front of him. "For the king's arrival tomorrow."

Belle groaned, although it resembled more of a growl. "Don't remind me."

Rumpelstiltskin looked over in confusion. The whole kingdom seemed to be alight with excitement over the King Gaston's arrival. Nearly every artisan, cook, and mason had been commissioned for the grand spectacles, feasts, and games to be held in the visiting king's honor.

"You do not wish for the king's arrival?" he pried softly, not understanding how it was possible to not get swept up in all of the excitement. Even he was looking forward to it.

"No. Yes. I mean—" She stopped, grimacing at him. "Forgive me. It's only that I've been trying to forget that he's been coming all week, and now that it's tomorrow…I'm…" She looked down, her shoulders dropping in resignation, and stood up. "I'm sorry, I came here in a foul mood. I won't bother you any longer."

"You are never a bother," Rumpelstiltskin interjected, not wanting her to leave. His quick response gave her a start and he flinched, regretted it instantly. Belle opened her mouth to retort, but he gestured to the stool she vacated beside him. "You may stay as long as you wish."

"Thank you," she said, smiling shyly back, and resuming her position on the stool. "I just needed to get away from all of…_that_," she said, gesturing toward the castle.

"They won't mind that you're here?" _At night?_ He wanted to add.

"They don't mind what they don't know."

"No one knows you are here?" he asked, the words slipping from his lips.

Belle chuckled. "Concerned for my honor, Rumpelstiltskin?" she teased.

His mouth went dry at the mere thought of discussing her "honor." "But, your guards?"

"Back at the castle, still guarding my door, I suppose. I thought that they could use a break from me."

"Oh." Rumpelstiltskin gulped. The thought that Belle had sought out him alone, when she wanted peace made his heart pound nearly out of his chest.

"Don't worry," she added. "As far as they know, I'm asleep in my room."

"But won't your maids—?"

"They're…uh…resting at the moment."

Rumpelstiltskin was confused for a moment, but then his eyes widened in understanding, remembering his first night at the castle. "You _drugged_ them?"

She waved her hand, dismissing his concern. "It's perfectly safe. I checked with the maester."

"He _gives_ it to you?"

"Well, no. Not exactly. But I check with him before I take anything. No one really talks to him, not unless they need something, so he's always happy to talk with me and answer my questions. As far as he knows, I have trouble falling asleep," she said, grinning mischievously.

Rumpelstiltskin looked at her, wide-eyed. His perfect princess was a thief. "He doesn't notice that it's missing?"

"Well, not yet." She giggled back.

He couldn't think of anything to say to that, so he just shook his head in amusement, and resumed his task of cleaning the royal tack in front of him. He was aware that Belle was intently watching him, but it was no longer uncomfortable. It was nice, peaceful even.

They continued their quiet company, even after he had completed the saddle that he was working on, and switched it out for another. All the while, Belle continued to simply sit and watch him, without saying a word.

"I missed talking to you today," she whispered softly, breaking the silence finally.

Rumpelstiltskin looked up in shock at her quiet admission. His mouth opened and closed, before he ducked his reddening face away from her. He felt his cowardice taking over once again, leaving him unable to tell her what he wanted say back: That no one had ever missed him, that he missed her too, that he woke up each morning and went to sleep each night looking forward to their daily meetings in the field, and that just seeing her face was the best part of his day. "I'm sorry, I've been busy here all day," he said finally instead. _Coward._

He snuck a glance over at Belle. She looked almost disappointed, sad even, before giving him an understanding nod and lapsing into silence once again. Her sad look was almost too much to bear; he didn't know what to say, or rather, he was afraid he would say the wrong thing and make it worse. "So, ah, the king…you aren't looking forward to his visit?"

Belle frowned, her expression darkening, making Rumpelstiltskin cringe at his foolish choice of topics.

"Forgive me, I don't wish to upset you."

"It's not that," she said quickly. She looked at him, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. "It's just…I just wish he wasn't coming at all. I fear that there may be other reasons for his visit than what my father believes."

"Other reasons?"

Belle sighed. "My father told me that believes the war may be coming to our borders. Gaston's army would be necessary to help stop the enemy from crossing the mountains and invading. His army and ships outnumber ours nearly twenty to one, yet my father said that he seeks out our help and our alliance. It doesn't make any sense. We have nothing to offer him. We should be the ones seeking out _his_ help, yet he wrote of his intentions to seek an alliance before we even knew of the war's progression. Gaston is not a man to offer anything unless he expects to get double in return. It makes his intentions suspect to me, but everyone else welcomes him with open arms." She paused, raising her arms in frustration. "Any objection that I've raised has been dismissed immediately, saying that it's none of my concern. They won't even listen to me."

"Even your father?"

"Especially my father. He believes that the only reason I don't want Gaston to come is because I personally don't like him— which, I'll admit is partially true. Last time he visited, he and I didn't part on the most gracious of terms to say the least. You see, the king does not care for anyone to challenge him, let alone a lady far younger than he."

Rumpelstiltskin grinned, imagining Belle going toe to toe with the king. Any man would be at a disadvantage challenging her sharp wit, none more so than one she didn't care for.

"I swear there are times when I wish that I was born a man. Then, at least, they would take me seriously." She huffed in frustration, and looked back at him. "What do you think? Am I being foolish and making this into something it isn't?"

"M'lady?" he asked, taken aback that she would want his opinion.

"Tell me true, Rumpelstiltskin. I trust that you'll judge me fairly."

Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes, trying to compose his thoughts. "I confess that I'm the last person you should consult about on these matters, but what I do believe is that you're an excellent judge of character, m'lady. And if you say that this king is untrustworthy, then I trust that you have good reason to think so…and I'm also glad that you weren't born a man."

Belle chuckled, her eyes shining warmly at him, and she reached across to place her hand on his, squeezing them. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For believing me."

Rumpelstiltskin looked at her in shock. "Of course I do," he said softly. He glanced down at their hands and turned his to tentatively squeeze hers back in return. "I'm afraid that I'm not much of an ally in your cause, though."

"To know that I have your support is enough," she said, continuing to smile warmly at him before looking down once again, gesturing to the oiled tack. "You're very good at this, you know?"

"Thank you," he said, touched.

She sat quietly once again, seemingly lost in her thoughts as she stared at him finishing his work.

As he reached for another towel, he found that one was already offered to him. He looked up in surprise, and smiled in thanks at Belle. He finished the rest of the saddle quickly with her help, passing over towels, or oil, as needed, without him having to ask.

Once finished, he left her briefly to return his tools and the last saddle to the royal livery. When he returned, he was surprised that she was still sitting there, waiting for him.

As he approached closer, she rose off the stool, brushing off her dress. "I may not be able to see you once Gaston arrives."

Rumpelstiltskin tried, and failed, to push his disappointment away. "I understand."

"I mean, I hope that I can see you. It's just…I don't want you to think that I'm…" she trailed off, biting her lip nervously.

"I will miss you too, m'lady."

Her face broke into a wide smile at his quiet admission. "Belle. My name is Belle," she said, her eyes twinkling in delight as she whispered her reminder. As if he could forget.

"Belle," he repeated, smiling back at the beauty that said she would miss him. His eyes betrayed him, sneaking a glance at her perfect, rose-hued lips. Lips that were suddenly too close, too temptingly close, close enough that he would only have to slightly lean forward to meet her with his_. No!_ his mind yelled at him, and he jerked back away.

She frowned. "Are you okay?" Belle asked, concerned, walking forward to meet him.

His chest heaved in panic at what he almost did. He could only nod back, not trusting his voice. The rational part of his mind screamed at him that this was inappropriate, that he shouldn't want to kiss her so much. She was a princess. A _princess_. She shouldn't even be talking to him, let alone standing here at night with him by herself.

"I should…uh… get back. To my quarters…to go to bed," he stammered, unable to come up with a coherent excuse. He needed to leave now because he was precariously close to getting on his knees and begging her to never leave his side again.

"Oh," Belle whispered quietly, disappointment obvious on her features, which killed him. "I will leave you then. Thank you for listening to me."

"Always," he whispered. Before he could turn away, Belle leaned up and kissed him lightly on the cheek. He froze, feeling his heart stop.

Belle backed away quickly, a rosy blush rising to her cheeks. "Sweet dreams, Rumpelstiltskin," she said, giving him quick courtesy, before she turned on her heel and nearly ran out of the barn.

He watched her walk away, dumbstruck. "Sweet dreams, Belle," he whispered under his breath, reaching up to touch his cheek again, unable to believe that that just happened. He wasn't sleeping at all tonight.

…

_Foolish. Foolish. Foolish,_ Rumpelstiltskin cursed himself. _Stupid, impulsive fool._

This was why it was easier to be a coward, because cowards didn't do such foolish things. A bead of sweat trickled down his back, causing his stomach to roll over again. The king and his daughter were expected at any moment and his stomach was in knots—big, complicated, twisting, turning knots, which were threatening to force him to lose the contents of his stomach at any moment. If he wasn't holding the said king's daughter's horse, he would've already fled, but alas, here he was: trembling and sweating like a pig, waiting for Belle to make her appearance.

Onyx stopped his foot impatiently at his side, leaning down to try and rummage through Rumpelstiltskin's pockets. He tried to bat the stallion subtly away. The last thing he needed was to be seen as incompetent in front of everyone, especially since he knew that half of the pages, and probably most of the knights, had exchanged money against him keeping the horse in line.

He fidgeted with the reins again, finding his palms clammy with sweat, and looked back towards the castle's main doors. The king, along with his entourage, was making the day's journey to the sea to greet King Gaston at the shore. His entire kingsguard, outfitted in full amour, accompanied by more than a hundred footmen, lined the dirt path, which led out of the castle's gates. Rumpelstiltskin had never seen such a sight. It seemed that the entire castle was holding its collective breath, waiting for the king and his daughter to make their arrival. None more so than Rumpelstiltskin.

Suddenly, there was a commotion in the crowd and the entire kingsguard snapped to attention; their armor making a resounding metal "clang" as they synchronized their movements.

Rumpelstiltskin watched in awe as the king and Sir Alliser strode into the courtyard. Until now, he had never seen the man that Belle called "father." The man was huge and foreboding, giving off the aura of a strong warrior. His broad chest was adorned with a red velvet cloak, trimmed in luxurious striped fur, and golden clasps. As striking as the king was, it wasn't until he spotted a head of familiar, auburn curls behind him that Rumpelstiltskin's breath caught in his throat.

Belle was stunning. He'd never seen such a beautiful sight. She almost didn't look real, draped in her royal blue riding cloak, and adorned with glittering, royal jewels on her neck and a delicate, gold crown on her head, which brightly shown in the sunlight.

Her eyes connected suddenly with his, and her face broke into a wide smile. He was almost tempted to look around and see if it was someone else that she was smiling at, but she turned and walked directly over to him, her cloak waving behind her.

"Onyx!" she exclaimed excitedly, reaching over to pet her horse's forehead. Belle turned her attention to Rumpelstiltskin. "You brought him for me?" she whispered to him, her eyes alight in surprise.

Rumpelstiltskin stammered, unsure if he did the right thing or not. It seemed that he did, judging by her reaction, but a sliver of fear ran through him, at the thought that he did his job wrong.

"I've never been able to take him, because no one could ever get all of this on him," she explained, gesturing to the ornate caparison that covered Onyx.

A wave of relief passed over him, and he thanked the gods that he had pleased her. He would dress Onyx in this tack every day if it garnered this reaction from her.

"Well, look at that! Your beast looks like a proper palfrey," a loud voice boomed behind them, ceasing Rumpelstiltskin's train of thought.

The king walked over with a bemused expression on his face and it took everything in Rumpelstiltskin's power to keep his shaking knees from collapsing as he bowed before him.

"Father!" Belle said in fake exasperation. "Onyx is always well-behaved."

"Ha! What type of sorcery have you performed on this beast, man?"

Rumpelstiltskin looked up in alarm, unsure if he was expected to answer. "None, your grace," he said softly, keeping his head bowed.

"This is Rumpelstiltskin, Father," Belle said, gesturing to him. "The man that caught Onyx for me."

The king raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Oh, so _you're_ the man that my daughter has told me so much about. It seems that her confidence in you wasn't unfounded. If you can do this with this unruly animal, you'll be running our stables in no time."

Rumpelstiltskin gawked at the compliment, reminding him at the last second to bow and say his thanks. When he looked up, the king had already walked away, but Belle remained at his side, beaming.

"I do believe that you've impressed him," she whispered, tipping her head towards him.

He kept gaze fixed firmly forward, and nodded back, too scared to reply to her directly with everyone watching.

A call to head out echoed through the courtyard, and all of the knights and mounted riders stepped on their coursers in unison.

"Well, I suppose I must leave and greet his royal highness," Belle said, her annoyance blatantly apparent in her tone. As if on cue, two assistants led a block over to Onyx's side and helped her into the saddle, arranging her garments for her. "Good day, Rumpel," she said, giving him one last smile, before Onyx walked off promptly, antsy to get going.

Rumpelstiltskin's reply caught in his throat and he could only watch as she walked away, through the courtyard. _Good day, Belle._

Suddenly, Belle's head dropped and she reined up, stopping to look behind her. She looked around, until she found him, her eyes locking with his once again.

Rumpelstiltskin felt his stomach drop as he remembered his moment of impulsiveness. He wanted to go run and hide in embarrassment for what he had done. However, a second before he could turn away, Belle lifted the flower that he had hidden in her saddle's cantle to her nose, and smiled at him.

His lips tugged upwards, as he watched her disappear a moment later amongst the crowd of knights.

"Be careful, my friend."

Rumpelstiltskin jumped and tore his gaze away from Belle's direction, turning around quickly at Sirio's voice. "I, uh…"

Sirio raised a knowing eyebrow, and held up his hand. "Et—don't speak. I need you to stay around, so I can continue to win money off of you, and your magical abilities, so you will be smart and careful, yes?"

He nodded back, trying not to get sick from the nauseous feeling threatening to overwhelm him that Sirio saw their interaction.

"Good. Now, get back to work. There is still work to be done, and more still when we have two kings in attendance."

"Yes, sir," Rumpelstiltskin said quickly, turning on his heel to jog back into the stables; he had never been so grateful for a dismissal before. His heart continued to race at the thought of what Sirio saw, or suspected. He knew that the head groom was loyal to Belle, but to him? He had to be careful. And that meant that he needed to stop this foolishness before anyone else noticed.


	5. Chapter 5

"A fine day for a ride, is it not, sir?"

"It is, m'lady," Sir Alliser replied tiredly.

Belle smiled at the stoic knight riding beside her, pleased that he responded finally to her. "A bit slow, perhaps, though?"

"Perhaps. You have my thanks for your patience, Princess."

"Well, it _is _only a short while farther to the coast...could I maybe ride ahead and—"

"You are to stay by my side, m'lady," he said sternly.

Belle huffed and sat back in her saddle, resigned. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't be a very sporting chase anyways, considering you don't have your hawk."

The silver-haired knight faced forward, but she could see a slight quirk of a smile threaten to cross his lips.

"You could ride ahead with me," she offered encouragingly at him. Really, she'd rather do _anything _other than ride another slow step behind this line of people. They had been riding for hours at no faster than a crawling walk. It was maddening.

"We are to stay with the caravan, m'lady."

"Did my father ask you to escort me?"

He nodded. "I do as the king requires."

"He's _that_ afraid that I'll run away?"

"He most certainly is!" a familiar, booming voice called out behind her. "I'm too old to go chase you myself."

Belle looked around to see her father trot his grand, white destier up to hers, slowing its stride to meet hers. "And how far do you suspect that would I get with all of this?" she said, gesturing up and down at the heavy jewels and coat that she was adorned with. Even Onyx was barely visible underneath his embroidered caparison.

"Far enough, I know! Especially with that beast of yours, there. Don't try and fool me into believing he's tired. I won't believe it— no matter how well that groom has trained him up," the king jested back.

Her father's casual mention of Rumpelstiltskin's name caused Belle's heart to flutter, and a blush to rise to her cheeks. She had to roll her eyes quickly in mock annoyance to try to distract her father from her reddening complexion. "I think you overestimate me, father."

The king laughed. "Oh, no. I am most certainly probably _underestimating_ you. I woe the day that I allowed you to keep that damned animal."

Alliser huffed in agreement next to her.

"Don't be cruel. Look—he's perfectly well-behaved."

"Resting is more like it."

In fact, Onyx did look half asleep. "I believe he's simply overwhelmed with excitement over the king's arrival."

Her father burst into another booming laugh. "Well, it won't be much longer until you may both bask in his highness' presence."

Belle narrowed her eyes, and kicked Onyx forward; Sir Alliser followed in turn, smoothly keeping pace alongside her.

A strong gust of cool, sea air blew Belle's air and cape all about her, blinding her. She halted Onyx, and reached down to clutch the small pocket hidden in her dress where she had hidden Rumpelstiltskin's flower. His unexpected gesture had touched her so; she couldn't bear to lose it.

She still couldn't believe that he had thought to give it to her. Belle was almost certain that she had overstepped with her impulsive kiss last night. His reaction to it had made her toss and turn all night, hoping that she hadn't ruined everything. Thus, the sight of the small flower tucked in her cantle, hidden from all except her, had made her heart leap and feel as giddy as a young girl, not a grown woman soon to approach her twenty-second name day.

Opening her cloak, Belle snuck a quick glance at the flower in her pocket, fingering the smooth, white petals with her fingers. _He remembered, _she thought, smiling to herself again.

Only a couple days ago in the field, she had made an offhand comment to him about how much she enjoyed the scent of the new flowers coming into bloom. She hadn't thought anything of it at the time, but he'd remembered. She'd had dozens of poorly-matched suitors bring her gifts of gold and jewels, and yet none had ever made her feel the same way she had when she saw the small, white flower.

She still couldn't believe that it had been only two short weeks since Rumpelstiltskin had arrived in Avonlea. Already, she couldn't fathom him not in her life— not being able to see him, confide in him, and simply be with him. The memory of her lips brushing against his scruffy cheek... _I need to stop_.

She sighed, shaking herself out of her thoughts. No matter what her heart felt, it would be unfair and cruel to him to continue this, when she knew that would be impossible to take it further. Yet, she just couldn't stop thinking about him.

Suddenly, Onyx stopped abruptly, nearly colliding with the horse in front of him. Belle jerked her head up with a start, realizing that they had arrived.

"Well, he certainly likes to make an entrance, doesn't he?" her father remarked dryly, riding up beside her.

"An entrance" was an understatement. Down below in the bay were three of the largest galleons that Belle had ever seen, each donning majestic gold and red striped sails. Scattered along the beach were hundreds of red tents and small fires dotting the sand, each attended to by an innumerable amount of people scattering about like little ants.

"My gods, how many people did he bring?" she asked, amazed at the sheer grandiose of the display before her.

"He wishes to make a show of his power," Alliser replied.

_Obviously_. "So what do we do now?" Belle asked. The beach was nearly three hundred feet down from the cliff where they were standing. The thought of their group having to scale the cliffs didn't frighten her; it was the thought that the long climb would force them to spend the night in Gaston's camp that made her inwardly cringe.

The king looked over at her with a knowing look. "We wait."

"Wait?"

The king's lip quirked up in amusement. "He wishes to make a show his power; we'll make a show of ours. Gaston called this summit. If he wishes to make an ally of us, he will have to come to us."

Belle was confused, and slightly annoyed. "If that was your plan all along, then why did we have to ride all the way out here? Why not have him ride to the castle?"

"Because m'dear, we're nothing if not polite hosts, are we not?"

…

Thankfully, they didn't have to wait long for King Gaston to grace them with his presence. Or rather, King Gaston and his extremely large entourage's presence. Belle still couldn't believe the sheer number of people that accompanied him up the cliffs.

The king, himself, was exactly as Belle had remembered: strikingly handsome, with chiseled features, perfectly styled pitch-black hair, and adorned with the same, gaudy jeweled crown, which he wore with an entitled arrogance. His lavishly embroidered cloak was trimmed with an exotic stripped fur, and fastened together by the largest ruby that she had ever seen. The man simply glittered in the sun.

His personality also hadn't seemed to have changed in the years since she saw him last. It took his herald nearly ten minutes to read his full address and accolades, while Gaston grinned smugly to himself. Finally, he rode forward to greet them, but not before a trumpeter signaled the end of his introduction.

"King Maurice, of Avonlea, I, King Gaston of Lornes, thank you for your welcome."

"King Gaston, it is my pleasure to welcome you to our kingdom," her father replied. "I hope that this may be the start of many visits to come."

"As do I," Gaston replied, a little too confidently for Belle's liking. She was becoming quickly annoyed with these feigned pleasantries.

As if reading her mind, her father reined his horse to the side, gesturing towards her. "And may I present my daughter, Princess Belle of Avonlea."

Belle gave a slight nod in acknowledgement.

Gaston's eyes raked her greedily up and down, lingering on her chest.

"King Gaston," she said, pointedly covering herself up more with her riding coat.

"Princess Belle, forgive me. I did not recognize you. It has been far too long. You are…stunning. I am honored by your presence."

Belle stared blankly back at him, until her father coughed softly. "As am I," she said, feeling her cheeks begin to strain from trying to smile.

Gaston smiled back, but it did not reach his eyes. Not that Belle cared. There was only one person that she sought to make smile, and it most certainly wasn't this cad. Thankfully, he looked away to continue his introductions with her father, leaving Belle free to tune out the empty words, and observe the far more interesting entourage standing behind him.

A large, menacing-looking man, standing directly behind Gaston, caught Belle's eye immediately, making her want to flinch away from his intense stare. She remembered Gaston's Hand from his last visit to their kingdom. The gossip at court was that the man had played a role in Gaston's father's suspect death. Even though her father had told her that is was nothing more than bored courtesan talk, Belle believed it, knowing that Gaston wouldn't hesitate to have someone else do his dirty work, simply because he wouldn't be able to stand getting blood on his clothes.

The other members of Gaston's entourage reflected the Hand's steely demeanor. Not one kind face amongst the hundred. Belle looked longingly over at the tall-mast ships anchored in the bay and began counting down the days until they left their shores once again.

"Princess, I do hope that you will accompany me on the ride back," a familiar, irritating voice called out behind her, breaking her daydreaming. Belle turned to see Gaston, gesturing to his saddle.

She was momentarily at a loss of words; stunned that he would assume that she would like to ride behind him for the entire ride home. "Ah…I thank you for the offer, sir, but I prefer riding on my own, thank you."

Gaston huffed, his nose turning up in disgust at her dismissal. "Quite unbecoming for a lady to ride by herself on a destier, wouldn't you say?"

"No, I'd say that it's quite presumptuous for a gentleman to assume that a lady would ride with him," she said, smiling.

"I'm _King_ Gaston, Princess—not a mere gentleman. And I don't presume, I command."

"Oh, well then, by all means—command away," she said, waving her arm, noticing her father take notice of their interaction.

Gaston's face turned dark. "I—" he growled, shutting his mouth and transforming his face into a pleasant smile at the sight of her father walking over to them. "The lady may do as she wishes, of course."

Maurice looked between them, no doubt picking up on the tension. Belle wished that he'd "command" Gaston right back to the sea from where he came. "The sun will turn down soon, I suggest we head back soon," he said in a light tone, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Very good, Maurice. I will order my men to move out at once," Gaston said, kicking his mount sharply in anger to trot up alongside Maurice.

Belle held Onyx steady, not missing the pointed, angry glance Gaston flashed her as he rode by. Oh, how she despised that man!

"M'lady?" Alliser murmured quietly beside her.

Tearing away her eyes from the departing kings, she inhaled deeply, trying to calm her anger, before finally turning towards the knight. "Yes, Alliser?"

He gestured toward the train of people. "Shall we?"

Belle sighed, nodding her head in resignation "Yes, I believe we must."

…

The next days passed by slowly, much to Belle's dismay. She had yet to feel the breeze upon her face since their ride to the shore, having been required to spend all of her time within the castle walls. Her father had strictly forbid her from going off by herself. Instead, her days were spent entertaining the droll ladies of Gaston's court, and her nights were spent dining in endless feasts honoring their guest.

The worst yet was that Gaston's behavior towards her had only worsened since their first encounter. Still scorned from their first meeting, his subsequent encounters with her had verged on inappropriate, even frightening. If he wasn't trying to leer, or make rude remarks towards her, he was becoming dangerously angry if she dared to challenge him. Even worse, she had no witnesses his behavior; he behaved like a complete gentleman around her father. It was becoming almost too much to bear.

Just thinking of the man brought tears of frustration to her eyes. She brushed them quickly away, and grabbed her book, settling further in her small window nook. The small space in her room had become the only place where she could finally relax and breathe at the end of the long day.

She leaned her head against the window's cool glass, looking out towards the field and the mountain beyond, silhouetted in the bright moonlight. The view from this perch was truly spectacular, but she could take no enjoyment from it; it was only another reminder of how she was trapped inside.

Turning away, she picked up her book again, and settled back amongst the large stack of pillows. It was another book of wars. She sighed, opening to her marked page where she had finished last. The large tome was droll and boring, yet the knowledge she gained from it, namely the ability to correct Gaston's account of his history, made the reading worth it.

It wasn't until she noticed that the noise below her had noticeably died down, that she put the book aside, feeling tired suddenly. She leaned up to stretch, and froze, spotting a familiar face in the crowd below.

Just the sight of Rumpelstiltskin brought fresh tears to her eyes. Oh, how she had missed him! It had been nearly a week since she had seen him last. His flower, which she kept hidden with her at all times, had been her lone reminder that there was at least one person who cared about her. All she wanted was to run down to him now, and be in his comforting presence just for a moment, and for him reassure her that it would all be over soon.

Belle bit her lip, watching him make his way down the path. No longer the frail, scared man she'd stumbled upon in the forest, Rumpelstiltskin now walked with a sense of purpose which made her smile despite her tears. _He must be on the way to his quarters_, she thought, watching him pause to pick up a dropped parcel for an older woman on the street.

As he stood back up, he looked up in her direction and Belle's heart leapt in her chest, hoping that he'd see her in the window. He lingered, looking up towards her, and then shook his head, turning away to walk on.

She wanted to yell his name, do _something _for him to turn around, just so she could see him one more time, but he continued on his way until he turned a corner, out of sight.

The accumulation of the day's events became suddenly too much, overwhelming her last vestiges of control, and Belle broke down and cried.

…

It was nearly a fortnight before Gaston announced his intentions to return to Lornes. Upon the announcement, her father had declared that a grand jousting tournament would be held in his honor.

Belle had never looked forward to a tournament more in her entire life. The days had flown by, as she had anxiously awaited the contest, which would mark the last day before Gaston's departure.

When she had awoken in the morning, even her maids had taken notice of her change in mood as they dressed her, and commented about how happy she was, mistaking her mood for excitement over the day's festivities.

_One more day_, she reminded herself with a smile, adjusting her crown in the mirror. _One more day, and he'll be gone._

"You look beautiful, m'lady."

Belle turned around and smiled. "Thank you, Lorraine."

She had chosen to wear the same royal blue dress that she had worn during Gaston's arrival, mostly because of how she had remembered Rumpelstiltskin looking at her that day. She had never felt so beautiful.

In fact, part of her excitement over attending the tournament today was because there was a chance that she would be able to see him. It was slim, but it was still a chance, and that was all she needed to get her heart racing with excitement.

Taking one last look at herself in the mirror, she opened her door, finding that Sir Alliser and his men were already waiting for her.

"Are you ready, Princess?"

"Oh, yes." Belle beamed. "_Very_ ready."

Alliser smirked, and gestured her on ahead, his fellow guards surrounding them on all sides.

Over the past weeks, Belle had grown increasingly fond of the knight, even if he had somehow thwarted her every attempt to sneak out of her room. However, he had never once told her father of her attempted escapes; instead, he had simply raised an eyebrow, and escorted her back to her room.

The turning point in their new "truce" had occurred the night after she had spotted Rumpelstiltskin from her window. That evening, she had escaped from her room, unable to stay inside any longer, and had nearly reached the stables, when Alliser had stepped out of the shadows. Belle had collapsed in grief and frustration, crying the entire way back to her room, as Alliser carried her in his arms. Ever since then, he had been tolerant, kind even, in his dealings with her.

Belle looked over at the knight again, giving him little nod of thanks as he held the door open for her. She waited for him to join her, and walked the short distance to the tourney grounds at his side.

Colorful banners and tents, decorated with two kings' colors, as well as the visiting knights' banners, spread as far as the eye could see. It was certainly the largest tournament held in Avonlea that Belle could remember, and it seemed that everyone was buzzing with excitement. It was impossible to not be swept up in all of the festivities, and Belle felt herself increase her stride in excitement to get to the tourney faster.

Loud trumpets announced their arrival into the tournament grounds. The other highborn ladies and gentlemen of both courts had already taken their places within the royal viewing tent. As the king's daughter, Belle was second to last to arrive, and she assumed her place next to her father's empty chair, glad for the buffer between her and Gaston.

The trumpeters changed their tune suddenly, and Belle stood, along with the crowd, as her father's royal herald walked to the center of the jousting list. The man waited a moment, holding his hand up, before delving into his speech, which proclaimed Avonlea's gratitude and thanks for King Gaston's friendship, and announced that this tournament was to be dedicated in his honor.

A large cheer went up in the crowd as he finished, and the two kings rode into the arena on two beautiful, white palfreys, each adorned with their respective colors. Her father gave a gracious wave to the people, while Gaston simply stood there, head up. Belle had no idea what he was doing, but the smug look on his face inclined her to assume that the man was trying to literally bask in the crowd's praise.

She was about to make a comment about it to Sir Alliser, when Gaston raised his hand, and announced in a loud voice: "Let the tournament, begin!"

The crowd went wild, and the two kings rode over, dismounting at the royal tent and assuming their places.

Belle clapped politely, more preoccupied with scanning the crowd, rather than adding to Gaston's self-adulation. The sheer amount of people, in their kaleidoscope of colored tunics, made it hard to single out anyone, let alone find the person she was looking for, but Belle was nothing if not determined.

It took until the second pairing when she finally spotted him. Rumpelstiltskin wasn't in the crowd—he was on the tournament floor, holding a knight's destier, trying to quiet the anxious animal.

She waited patiently for him to look over in her direction. It wasn't until he gave the horse to a waiting squire, that he glanced towards her.

Belle smiled, chancing a subtle wave in acknowledgement, hoping that he noticed her. His instant slack-jawed expression made her smile only wider, and his nervous wave back made have to look away to try and stop the reddening of her cheeks.

"Are you alright, m'dear?"

Belle jumped. "Uh…yes. Yes, Father. Just that unhorsing…just dreadful," she said in a lame attempt to cover.

"Don't you worry, Sir Ravencourt will be fine."

"That's uh, good…good to know," she stammered back.

After she had ensured that no one was paying attention to her, she risked another glance at Rumpelstiltskin. He was still looking at her. To her infinite glee, she discovered, after a moment of watching him, that he was having the same problem as she. He could only hold her glance for a brief moment, before ducking away, only to sneak another glimpse a moment later.

The fact that she affected him the same way that he affected her, made Belle nearly giddy. She felt jittery, and anxious, counting down the hours until Gaston left and she would be able to go down to the stables and see him once again.

Soon though, a squire called for another mount, and Rumpelstiltskin gave her one last look, before disappearing into the curtains behind the grounds.

Belle sighed with disappointment that their little game of stealing glances at each other was over. She tried to distract herself by watching the tournament, which proved to be very enjoyable to watch. Her father's loud encouragements and groans at his knights' performances made her laugh, and he only got louder with each passing round.

After countless more pairings competed in the list, a horn sounded for the final match to begin, but before the final two knights entered the grounds, Gaston stood up, holding up his hand. "King Maurice," he said, "my lords and ladies…good people of Avonlea, I wish to thank you for this grand tournament that has been held today. Your Grace, you honor me with your friendship, and the opportunity for our kingdoms to become allies. I believe that this will be the start of great things to come!"

A loud cheer went up the crowd, as well as the entire royal tent.

Gaston smiled, and continued. "And in a gesture of how true I am to our new alliance, I propose a marriage of our two families." He looked over to Belle and her father. "I have come to know your daughter, and come to appreciate her grace and beauty more than you will ever know. So I ask you, as your friend and ally, would you do me the honor of letting me take her as my queen and uniting our kingdoms in marriage?"

Belle felt all the blood drain from her face and grew faint. Her breath came faster and faster, nearly hyperventilating, as she looked to her father for help. This simply couldn't be happening. "Father!" she pleaded in panic. Gaston knew that she couldn't object publicly, especially after driving the crowd into a near frenzy over his declaration.

Maurice paused, his expression blank, as if he was seriously considering his offer.

_No! No! Please, Father, no! _She tried pleading with him with her eyes, trying to will her father to save her.

Before he could respond, Gaston raised his hand once again, quieting the crowd. "Your Grace, any man can see what a treasure your daughter is and no father should ever have to part with something as beautiful as she. So I propose that you nominate your greatest knight, and I will compete against him in the joust for the honor of winning Princess Belle's hand."

The crowd's cheers reached deafening levels with the suggestion of a joust with such high odds.

Tears swam in Belle's eyes as she watched her father ignore her and stand, smiling at Gaston.

"King Gaston, you honor me with your offer, I accept your proposal. I shall nominate Sir Theron as my daughter's champion."

_Sir Theron?_ A wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm her at the thought of him competing against Gaston. While Sir Theron had proven to be a loyal guard and companion to her for these past couple weeks, he was far from their best jouster. She felt suddenly woozy; the roar of the crowd becoming drowned out to a mere muffle.

Unable to resist, her father pulled her up from her seat to salute the crowd with him and Gaston. She looked out at the crowd, seeing people mouthing words, but finding that she was unable to hear them. All she could hear was the sound of her heart drumming in her ears.

She didn't know what to do. She couldn't run, or yell, or scream. Instead, she had to sit here and watch as her fate was decided before her. She didn't know how this was happening. Her entire life, Belle had prided herself on her independence; her father had encouraged this, never forcing her to commit to any suitor, no matter how suitable they appeared to be. Yet now, with Gaston of all people, he gave her hand away without even a thought to consult her first?

Belle sat back down, no longer caring what her father thought. She looked over, seeing Rumpelstiltskin enter with Sir Theron's team. He looked directly at her, his eyes full of concern, causing her own to well immediately with tears. Belle's lip quivered, the tears threatening to overflow, but she couldn't look away.

Her reverie was broken by the sound of trumpets announcing Gaston's arrival to the lists. The king was covered head-to-toe in golden armor. If he didn't hit his target, Belle thought that he was sure to blind his opponent instead.

Both riders rode over to the royal viewing tent, and King Maurice rose to address the two men. "King Gaston. Sir Theron. I salute you both. May you both have a fair joust and a great contest." The crowd once again roared in reply as each man saluted Belle's father.

The men then turned to Belle, looking at her expectantly. _Can I choose neither?_ She fingered her silk favor in her lap, and glanced over to her father for how to proceed. He tilted his head towards Gaston, and Belle seethed.

Steeling herself, she rose from her seat to address the men. "My dear Sir Theron, your Grace, may you both have a safe joust," she said, and then sat back down, her favor still in her hand. Gaston blinked in shock, dumbstruck, while Theron bowed to her and rode off.

Her father looked at her, furious, and she held his stare, glaring back. She wasn't giving _anyone_ a favor condoning this joust to determine her fate.

The two competitors assumed their positions on their respective sides of the jousting list. Belle felt sick, watching Theron struggle to keep his mount still enough to accept his lance, while Gaston stood at the other end like a golden god, awaiting his cue.

A shout went out, and the flag dropped, sending the two men racing towards each other. Gaston galloped awkwardly down the list, clearly unfamiliar with the weight of the armor and handling the lance, while Theron rode as smooth as silk, couching his lance perfectly, and aiming it across the list with great ease.

Both men came into contact with a loud clang.

Gaston rocked back hard in his saddle, but stayed horsed. Theron, however, was thrown hard into the ground, resulting in a huge cloud of dust. An overseer walked out to the center of the grounds, changing the scorecard to one in Gaston's favor, while Theron's squires ran over to assist their charge.

Belle shook her head, not believing what she had just seen. _What happened?_ Gaston didn't look like he had even come into contact with Theron's chest plate, let alone hit him with enough force to unhorse him.

The crowd didn't care though. They yelled loud exclamations of praise as Gaston saluted the crowd with his fist.

After a long moment, Theron staggered finally up from the ground, blood covering his unmasked face, and gestured to his squire help him remount on his destier.

Once again, the riders' squires handed them their respective lances, and steadied their mounts around the tilt.

"Charge!"

The flag dropped and they took off at a gallop once again. This time, both men connected violently, losing their lances and nearly rocking out of their saddles in the process. Even though Sir Theron had stayed on, it was no comfort to Belle—Gaston was still winning.

Despite this, Gaston appeared to be furious at his near unhorsing, screaming at his squire. The squire ran away, coming back a minute later with a new lance. Theron, however, was still having difficulty controlling his rank mount.

The call sounded for another pass, but Theron's destier balked. His squires panicked, and began manhandling the horse around the tilt to get him into position in time. Without warning though, his mount reared suddenly and charged forward, causing Theron to rock back at the sudden movement, dangerously unbalanced in the saddle.

Gaston took the advantage and spurred his disciplined mount ahead to meet Theron.

**_Clang!_**

A billow of dust obscured Belle's view, and the entire party in the royal tent stood at once to see what had happened, but it soon became clear when Theron's riderless horse galloped away from the cloud and out of the arena, leaving its rider lying motionless in the center of the list.

Theron's squires ran out to their charge, trying to get him to rise, but the knight stayed motionless on the crowd. The lead squire signaled to the crowd, causing a loud cheer to go up.

Gaston had won.

…

Belle felt numb, allowing Sir Alliser to escort her back to the castle, her guard clearing the path in front of them. She could barely remember the aftermath of the joust. Alliser had escorted her immediately from the tent, saving her from having to accept everyone's "congratulations."

Once back inside the castle's halls, her guard melted away, leaving Sir Alliser as her lone companion. The halls were strangely vacant, due to the tournament, and the emptiness only served to amplify the sound of their footsteps against the cold, stone floor.

"How could he have lost?" she murmured to herself, still dazed.

"I'm sorry, m'lady, but it had been already decided."

Belle looked at the floor, furrowing her brow, his words registering slowly in her mind. "He threw the match?"

"Their highnesses came to an accord over your marriage contract nearly a week ago. The joust was for the crowd's benefit, at the request of King Gaston."

She felt sick. Her father wouldn't do such a thing. "That's not true. He wouldn't do that."

"I was there, m'lady. It was the only way that Gaston would agree to an alliance."

"So I was sold for some _ships_?"

The old knight remained silent.

"Why are you telling me this, Alliser?"

"Because you deserve to know," he replied quietly.

Belle jerked to a stop. "Take me to him."

Alliser paused, looking at her curiously. "The king, m'lady?"

"Yes," she said, turning on her heel towards her father's quarters.

"M'lady—"

"Alliser, I am _not_ marrying that man! Now take me to my father!"

Alliser nodded. "I believe he was headed to the throne room."

Belle gritted her teeth. "Lead the way."

By the time she reached the throne room, her anger at the unfairness of her situation had made her livid, ready to tear apart anyone who stood in her way. She didn't even wait for the doors to fully open, before bursting through.

Her father looked up at her in shock.

"_Why?"_ she yelled, her teeth clenching in anger.

Her father had at least the decency to look ashamed. "Come here, my daughter," he said quietly, gesturing to his side.

Belle refused, standing her ground at the entryway. "Alliser said that you decided this as soon as Gaston arrived here."

"Belle—"

"Is that true?"

"Let me explain—"

"Is. It. True?"

Her father sighed. "Yes. Yes, it's true."

Belle's eyes stung with unshed tears. "How could you do this, father? How _could_ you?" she pleaded, her voice breaking.

Her father crossed the room, and extending his arms to her.

Unable to stop her tears, Belle fell into his embrace, weeping into her father's chest, as he stroked her back.

"I'm so sorry, my dear Belle. So sorry. This was the only way."

After a long moment, her tears subsided enough that she could pull away, and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "The only way to do what?"

The king wrapped his arm around her, and directed her towards his throne, gesturing for her to sit in the empty chair that stood beside his. Her mother's chair. "The only way to keep you safe, m'dear."

Belle looked at him in confusion, but he continued before she could ask.

"Belle, I haven't been completely truthful with you. The ogre war is closer than I told you. The front lines have been pushed back. Alliser expects the ogres to reach our borders by the end of the year. The Summarians, to the south, are taking the advantage and are poised to strike too. We're surrounded, my dear. Our kingdom will be at war soon."

"But, you don't have to marry me off to Gaston, though! I could stay here and fight. I could help you. You can't send me away. You _need_ me!"

Her father shook his head. "I need to know you're safe, m'dear. That's the only thing that's important to me; the only thing that I've ever wanted, and I can't provide it for you anymore. Gaston can, though. He's powerful and rich, and will be able to provide you with everything you'd ever need."

The tears of frustration split down her cheeks, and she threw up her hands. "But I don't care about that. I can't marry him, father! He's cruel and thinks only of himself. _Please,_ don't make me do this. I don't care about comfort. Please, let me stay here!"

"It's been decided, m'dear. You will leave with Gaston when he departs in two days. He wishes to be married in his kingdom."

Belle gasped. "Two days? What? How could you do this, and not tell me? How could you not tell me this?" she yelled, punching his arm, and standing up in a rush.

Her father stood to meet her. "My dear, Belle, I know that you must hate me right now, but know that I only thought of you."

"But, Gaston came to us. He wrote to us, asking for _our_ help. He's hiding something, Father. There must be something that he's not telling us!"

"I summoned him, m'dear," he said quietly. "I'm the one who asked him to come."

Belle's mouth opened in shock.

"I knew that he wanted to be married, and I saw an opportunity to secure your future."

"By sending me away."

He shook his head sadly. "By sending you somewhere safe."

Belle swallowed back another wave of tears, threatening to overwhelm her. "And there's nothing I can say to change your mind? Don't you care want I think?" she asked, her voice breaking.

"Of course I care what you think, Belle. But for this, I have decided. You will marry King Gaston."

Silent tears spilled down her cheeks.

"I love you, Belle," he said, his voice swelling with emotion. "If there was any other way…"

She nodded, unable to reply; her throat was tight with emotion and nausea. Her father stepped forward to embrace her. She felt suddenly utterly exhausted, and pulled back from his arms.

"I need to go."

Maurice kissed her forehead. "Of course, my dear."

She turned without reply, and shuffled out the door. Sir Alliser was waiting for her outside. He remained silent for the entire walk back to her rooms.

"M'lady, I wish you goodnight."

Belle nodded. "Goodnight, Alliser."

Instead of leaving though, the knight paused. "I should tell you, m'lady, that I will be gone for a while to go retrieve your guards. Will you be able to manage by yourself?"

"Yes, I should be fine. Thank you."

"Be sure to go closer your window and secure it properly. The masons were repairing it today, and I don't believe they have taken down their ladder yet."

_He couldn't possibly be… " _Thank you, Sir Alliser. Good night," she smiled, unsure if she understood his meaning correctly.

He bowed before her, and whispered, "Goodbye, m'lady," before turning to walk in the opposite direction down the hall.

"Alliser?"

The knight stopped, turning around at her voice.

Before he could respond, Belle ran and threw herself around him, wrapping him in a tight hug. "Thank you," she whispered.

Alliser removed himself carefully from her embrace, and nodded, leaving her.

Finally alone, Belle closed the door behind her; her heart was pounding in her chest. For a moment she was torn, not wanting to leave her father behind, but then she realized that she would be forced to leave him anyways, forcing her decision.

_No one decides my fate but me_.

She scanned the room, but her mind was a blur, and she couldn't concentrate on what she needed to take. _Saddlebags—it's in the saddlebags_, she remembered.

After changing quickly into her most comfortable riding outfit, Belle walked over to the large window by her nook, finding the ladder propped up against it as Alliser had said. She glanced back; taking one last look at the room she had grown up in, and then did the thing that she did best.

She ran.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi, everyone! Remember this story? No? It's okay, I hardly did either ;) But after losing my muse for a long time (okay, _REALLY_ _LONG _time) for this fic, I was finally able to go back over and re-outline this story, which jumpstarted my excitement and awoke my sleeping muse. I'm actually really excited for where this is going now. Also, I upped the rating to a T, because I'm never quite sure where the line is between the two- K+ and T. So just in case, it's a T now.**

**I also want to thank everyone that encouraged me to continue this, because without your little notes, I probably would've let this one sit on the backburner for forever. I only hope that there are still people interested in it. I am going to update it regularly now (or as fast as I can with my slow writing), so don't worry. Enjoy!**

* * *

"_It is my honor, and privilege, to declare King Gaston the winner of this joust. He has proven himself to be a champion truly worthy of my daughter's hand. May our kingdoms be forever united in a lifetime of peace and prosperity!"_

Rumpelstiltskin groaned and buried his face in his straw-filled pillow, hearing the king's voice echo in his head yet again. The man's booming proclamation had not stopped haunting his thoughts ever since the damning words were first uttered, repeating on an endless circuit.

_"...a champion truly worthy of my daughter's hand."_

_Truly worthy..._ His stomach clenched at the reminder, and he shifted, finally rolling over onto his back in an effort to try and make the nausea subside. All he wanted to do was to fall asleep, and forget everything that had occurred, if only for a short while. However, as much as he tried, the second he closed his eyes, the day's events came rushing back, and he found himself jolted awake yet again.

It wasn't as if he didn't know that this day was coming. He, of all people, knew that anything good was sure to come to an end. It was naïve to think otherwise; and yet recently, in a small, dark part of his mind that he would hardly admit to himself, let alone anyone else, Rumpelstiltskin would dream that Belle could stay here with him forever. Not as a wife, or lover, although he did have shameful dreams about that, but simply as a friend. He had never thought himself capable of such foolish dreams. It was Belle, he thought, filling up his head with stories of good conquering evil.

_Fool_, he thought, turning over again. He, of all people, should know that the world did not reward dreamers, especially ones that were cowards. Of course, this day would have had eventually come when he would've lost Belle to an engagement to a handsome suitor. However, never in his darkest nightmares had he expected it to come so soon, or to a man so vile.

She had warned him about the king before his arrival, but after witnessing the man's behavior today firsthand—pretending to knock that knight off his horse—Rumpelstiltskin thought that her opinion of the man was understated. How, or why, her father would allow such an unsuitable man to marry his daughter was incomprehensible. Belle deserved the bravest, most handsome man in all of the kingdoms to make her his queen, not that callous, arrogant man who was a king in name only.

A deep, familiar helplessness welled up in him yet again at the reminder that Belle was going to be Gaston's queen. Losing Belle was one thing—but losing her with the knowledge that she was destined for a life more miserable than she could ever deserve was beyond horrific. She was the person that had given him his life back, and to be forced to sit back, powerless as always, while this woman—truly the bravest, most comely woman he had ever known—was forced into a life she didn't want, or deserve, was a nightmare.

His lip quivered, and he tried to steady himself, forcing back the rising lump in his throat, as tears pricked the corner of his eyes.

_**BANG! BANG!**_

Rumpelstiltskin jumped, nearly falling clear out of his bed at the loud knocking on his door. He had barely enough time to right himself before a huge, armored knight came bursting in the door. He froze in place, absolutely terrified.

"Are you Rumpelstiltskin?" the knight asked, his lamp's light making his highlighted features all the more terrifying in the darkness.

"Ye…yes…" he whimpered.

"I need to you tack Princess Belle's destier at once."

Rumpelstiltskin paused in confusion; night had just fallen. What possible reason would Belle need her horse tacked for? Unless Gaston was planning on taking her away tonight…

"Groom!" the knight called out sharply. "Do you understand?"

"Uh…yes," he said, standing at once, feeling jittery from his rush of adrenaline.

"Good. Now go, and be quiet about it. No one must know." With that, the knight turned and left, his bright red cloak flapping behind him in his wake.

The room returned once again to near blackness, and Rumpelstiltskin fumbled, trying to put his clothes on as fast as possible. It seemed that his fingers were set on working against him, feeling thick and clumsy as he tried in vain to lace up his boots. Finally, he finished, and left without grabbing his lantern. After living alone in the dark forests, this twilight was hardly a deterrent to him, especially after memorizing the short route down to the stables' floor from his small apartment above.

Skipping nimbly down the wooden ladder, Rumpelstiltskin looked around, finding the stables eerily silent, except for the quiet movement of the horses eating and shifting in their bedded down stalls. The quiet scene only added to his confusion about the knight's urgent request, but he wasn't about to disappoint Belle by not having Onyx saddled in time for her.

With that in mind, he made his way quickly out to the paddocks behind the stable. Onyx was far too ornery, according to Sirio, to be boarded in the stables during the night; so after he nearly tore said building down, they had constructed an immense paddock behind the building for him to reside in instead. The trick was being able to catch him in it.

Luckily for Rumpelstiltskin, Belle had taught him how.

The moonless night made it difficult to see anything, let alone a pitch-black horse, but after a Rumpelstiltskin took out a small leather pouch, and shook its contents, the familiar pounding of hooves came bounding in his direction. It took only a couple seconds before the large stallion was in sight, running straight at him, head up, and ears pricked forward. He arrived at the gate a moment later, sliding expertly to a stop, avoiding a collision.

"Hey, boy," Rumpelstiltskin said, entering the paddock and offering the horse one of the small candies that Belle had given him.

In these past weeks, when he hadn't had Belle's company to look forward to everyday, he had taken to wandering out to the stallion's paddock after his work was done. A foolish idea to be sure, but the ornery animal had slowly bended, forging a tentative acceptance to allow Rumpelstiltskin to retreat into his enclosure without the risk of losing a limb. He found that the secluded area proved to be an ideal place to escape from all of the loud revelry taking place in the castle, which only served remind him of the wide chasm that existed between him and the princess.

"That's enough," Rumpelstiltskin murmured, taking his hand away to slip a leather halter over the stallion's large head. Onyx paid him no mind, focused instead on sniffing out Rumpelstiltskin's pockets for the source of the candy.

He gave Onyx a firm tug on the lead rope, not having time to pander to the insistent stallion's demands. The destier hesitating for a second before he broke into a trot, following Rumpelstiltskin obediently back to the barn.

The knight hadn't specified what saddle Belle needed, so Rumpelstiltskin ran to the far tack room to grab her traveling saddle. He stopped halfway, freezing in place as he remembered that he hadn't tied Onyx. _Gods! _he cursed, running back. Thankfully, Onyx was standing where he had left him, looking at him curiously.

He grabbed the lead rope, and secured the stallion to the hitching post with a quick slipknot. "Stay!" he commanded, running back to grab the saddle.

When he returned, he found that the horse had obeyed his wishes, remaining in the same place; his hind leg cocked, with his ears pricked in Rumpelstiltskin's direction. The rope, however, was untied, and hanging from his mouth, swinging side-to-side.

"Onyx..." he murmured. He didn't have time to school the horse on his misbehavior, so he simply threw the saddle across his back, and secured the girth, along with all of the straps, quickly, and exactly, as Belle had instructed him all those nights ago. It felt like it had been years since that first night, not the few, short weeks that it had truly been. And now…now it was all going to change.

Finished, Rumpelstiltskin tried to shake off his foreboding feeling and bridled Onyx up. The knight hadn't specified where he was supposed to take Belle's horse, and without anyone around, he was at a loss of what he should do, so he simply led the horse into the stable's entryway. At least this way, he could see when she was coming and take the horse to her.

However, no one was in sight.

The minutes passed by slowly, timed by the steady drip of a nearby, leaky water pump. After all of the rush getting Onyx saddled, Rumpelstiltskin's anxiety was making him want to nearly jump out of his skin waiting for Belle to appear. Yet, the only movement he saw was a passing barn cat.

There was no one he could ask about her whereabouts either. At this hour, the royal stables were empty, with all of the workers at home in their respective quarters for the night. Only Rumpelstiltskin remained, keeping vigil in the lone apartment in the loft above. The small quarters—truly the first place he had been able to call "his" for as long as he could remember—was given to him by Sirio, after the head groom had found a recently vacated house in town to move into; a coincidence which Rumpelstiltskin had since assumed had been Belle's doing, not that he had been brave enough to ask her. Yet another gift she had bestowed upon him, and all he had been able to give her were field flowers. _If only he was…_

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head, banishing the thought from his head before he could even finish it. Onyx seemed to agree, stamping his foot in irritation. Rumpelstiltskin chuckled to himself, and pet the horse's smooth coat, trying to sooth both himself and the animal.

Suddenly, Onyx spooked, whirling around to point his ears at something behind him. Rumpelstiltskin jumped too, taken aback by the stallion's surprising behavior, and looked back into the dark stable aisle, trying to see what had scared him, but there was nothing there.

"Hey," he said, patting the stallion's neck again. "Easy there. Nothing there, but—"

A hooded figured ran across the far aisle of the stables, silencing Rumpelstiltskin's reply.

He shrunk back in fear and grasped the reins with all of his might, anchoring himself to the stallion, as he heard footsteps run around towards the royal livery. A thief, he thought, shaking with adrenaline and fright. He knew that he should go confront the man, stop him from going in there, but he was terrified, his cowardice lifting its ugly head. "You…stop…" he whimpered, taking one step forward.

He looked around, hoping that someone else had seen, or heard, the man, but the courtyard and stables were as quiet as they had ever been, except for the distinct sound of someone rummaging in the room.

Going against every instinct in his body, Rumpelstiltskin picked up a nearby rake and crept towards the room, Onyx in hand. He knew that at least the horse would have the courage strike at the man, should the thief try to make a run at him.

"Hey," he whispered.

The rummaging continued, undeterred.

He took another step forward, nearly reaching the corner of the wall and exposing himself to the open tack room door on the other side. "The stables are closed," he said, louder, feeling himself shake with fear. "You shouldn't be here."

The sound stopped instantly.

_Oh gods…_ Rumpelstiltskin stepped backwards in retreat, all thought of playing hero vanishing instantly from his mind. Before he could take another step, a figure came rushing around the corner, tackling him, and wrapping their arms around him in a tight embrace.

"Rumpelstiltskin!"

Rumpelstiltskin's mind whirled, lagging a half a second behind, before he pulled away to confirm what his senses told him. "Belle," he said in stunned disbelief.

She smiled, and pulled the dark hood from her head, allowing her long mane of auburn curls to cascade down around her shoulders.

He gawked, realizing a second later that his arms were still around her, and jumped back awkwardly, trying to put a respectable distance between himself and the smiling princess. "I…um…I'm so sorry. I didn't know it was you. I thought it was a thief."

Belle chuckled, her smile widening as she reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "No, don't worry. It's fine. I actually came to find you."

He swallowed, looking down at her delicate hand still covering his. "Me?" he asked, fairly sure that her touch had caused him to hear incorrectly.

"Yes," she said, nodding. Her eyes left his for a second, and she glanced over his shoulder. "Wait—why do you have him saddled already?" she asked, her smile dissolving into a look of wary confusion as her hand slipped from his.

He glanced back at Onyx, a sickening fear of having disappointed her replacing the pleasant feeling that had been there a moment before. "I…I was told to saddle him—"

"By whom? Who told you?" she asked, looking around. "Who was here?"

"I—" He stopped; alarmed by her anxious tone, he glanced back in the same direction as Belle, as if he would see the answer behind him. "It was a knight. He…he woke and told me to tack your horse immediately. I don't know who he was. I swear, if I knew, I would tell you, but I don't know."

"Was he one of ours?"

Rumpelstiltskin thought back, remembering the flapping red cape. "Uh…yes." He nodded. "I think he was one of the kingsguard—he was wearing the cape."

A clear look of relief passed over Belle's features and she relaxed slightly. "Alliser," she said quietly, sighing to herself.

"What is going on, m'lady?" he asked, glancing back around to where she was looking a moment before. "Are you in trouble?"

"No," she said. "Or, at least, not yet."

He frowned, not understanding.

"I'm running away."

"What?" he gasped, feeling his heart stop, as he nearly dropped the reins in shock.

"You were at the tournament. You saw what happened." She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath in an obvious effort to wrestle back her anger. "My father arranged all of that to happen. _He_ was the one who summoned Gaston here, and proposed the marriage between us. After leading me to believe—" She stopped again, shaking her head. "He's sending me away in two days with Gaston to be married in Lornes. Two days! He won't even allow me to marry in my home. It doesn't matter though," she continued, gritting her teeth. "I'm not—I _can't _marry that man."

"But, your father—"

"Won't do anything! Don't you see? He sold me for some ships! Bartered my life away, because he thought it would make me 'safe.'" She stopped again, her bright blue eyes begging him to understand. "I can't stay here. If I stay here, they'll force me to marry Gaston and leave with him. I can't do it. This is my one chance to change my fate. I have to go now before they find that I'm missing."

Rumpelstiltskin didn't know what to say back to her pleading eyes. Words wouldn't come. He only felt numb and nauseous at the realization that his Belle was leaving him forever, and there was nothing he could do to stop her. He had to finally turn away, not wanting her to see the shameful tears that were threatening to well in his eyes.

"Rumpelstiltskin?" she asked quietly.

He couldn't face her, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor beside them. "What do you need me to do, m'lady?"

"Come with me?"

His head snapped back around. _Wha…what?_

"That's why I came to find you," she continued. "I wanted to ask you if you would like to come….with me."

Rumpelstiltskin's stared back at her in disbelief, his mind going completely blank at her quiet question. Belle? Wanting to run away? With _him_? Her face began to lose its brightness, and he panicked immediately, knowing that he had taken too long to answer.

"Forgive me," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to put you in any position…I thought…I mean, I'd hoped that you might want—" She bit her lip, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I'll—"

"Yes," he blurted out breathlessly.

She froze at his words, her bright blue eyes darting up to meet his.

"Yes," he repeated, nodding fervently, finding that his racing heart and suddenly dry mouth hindered him speaking any further.

Belle's face broke into a smile unlike any he had ever seen, and she leapt into his arms, throwing her arms around this neck, pressing her cheek against his. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Oh, thank you." She pulled away after a long moment; her eyes were bright with tears. "I can't tell you how much…" She sucked in a sharp breath, her face suddenly crumpling. "How much I'd hoped…"

Rumpelstiltskin hesitated for only a second, confused by her sudden change in emotion, before pulling her into another embrace, his care about impropriety losing out to the sight of her tears.

She fell into his embrace immediately, and wrapped her arms tightly around him again, burying her face in his shoulder.

"It's all right," he said, stroking her back, trying to calm her, as he felt her hot tears soak into his thin linen shirt.

She nodded, taking a shuddering breath. "He didn't even tell me. He knew this whole time and he didn't even tell me."

Rumpelstiltskin had nothing to say to that, or at least nothing he could say with a lady, such as Belle present. He only held her tighter, hoping beyond all hope that she took some comfort from him.

After a long while, she finally calmed, pulling slightly back to wipe the tears from her face. "Thank you." She smiled.

"For what?"

"For being you," she said. She glanced away nervously, before looking back at him. "Rumpel, if you come with me, we'll never be able to come back."

He shook his head. "I don't care."

"But, you're happy here."

A weak chuckle of disbelief escaped from his lips, as he shook his head again, unable to not smile at her misplaced concern. "Because of you."

Her lips quivered, and her eyes welled with tears again at his words.

Finding a bit of courage he didn't know existed, her reached up and touched her soft face, wiping away the tear running down her face. "You," he whispered, his own voice shaking with emotion, "showed me what happiness is."

Before he could realize what was happening, Belle leaned forward, closing the small space between them, and pressed her lips gently to his.

Rumpelstiltskin froze at the sensation of her silky soft lips slowly taking his bottom lip between her own. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, as he felt her lips linger for a moment, before pulling slowly away, leaving him panting in place, wide-eyed in shock.

Belle held his gaze for a moment, before ducking away, a bright, rosy blush rising to her cheeks.

Dumbstruck, he stood frozen in place, his shock rendering him unable to do anything except stare back at her. He didn't know what to do, or say. He wasn't even sure if what just happened, had in fact, just happened. His mind whirled. No one had ever…he had never…_What had they just done?_

"We should go before they come looking for me," Belle said quietly, snapping him out of his stupor.

He nodded dumbly back, grabbing Onyx's reins for her, and followed her around the corner to the tack room.

"We'll have to get provisions on the road," she said, walking into the room and returning a moment later with two large saddlebags. She shrugged off his attempt to grab them for her, and slung them behind the saddle herself. "I have enough money stored in these to get us by for a little while."

"You were planning on leaving?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, noticing the stuffed bags. They were packed to the brim with wrapped parcels of food, and bags of coin. She had obviously been planning this for some time.

Belle glanced over her shoulder at him, and shrugged. "No, but it's not my first time running away. Sirio lets me hide these here for my longer trips." She secured another strap with a grunt. "However, this time, they're not going to catch us."

Despite her confidence, fear spiked through him at the thought of being chased. Sure he'd run away before, but he had never been pursued by the army of knights that were sure to come after a runaway princess.

"It's all right," Belle said, touching him on the arm. "Don't worry. Alliser is on our side; he's the one that let me go and had his man tell you to get Onyx."

He nodded, feeling little comfort, as he watched her continue to secure her bags. He knew what would happen once they found them—and they would find them. They were no match against an entire army of men. He had seen what they had done to the deserters of the Ogres' war; he couldn't fathom what they would do to him once they found him with Belle.

"Hey," Belle said gently, touching his arm.

His head snapped up at her touch.

"You don't have to come," she said. "Please, I don't want you to put yourself at risk for my sake, if you don't want to come."

"No," he said shakily. "No, I want to come."

A look of relief shown on her face and she smiled, giving his arm a light squeeze. "Thank you."

He nodded, feeling his warring emotions give way to compete certainty of his decision at the sight of her grateful smile.

She turned back around; fastening the last of her straps, and then took the reins from him to tie Onyx to the wall. "We need to get you a horse too. Can you get Thames? I'll pack you some bags as well."

Rumpelstiltskin didn't need to be told twice, and jogged back across the aisle to the far stall, pulling Belle's fine palfrey out of its stall.

He had only began to open Thames' stall, when he heard the quiet sound of men walking through the high grass behind the stable door, their hushed voices barely able to be made out even in the dead of night.

"She's…over…."

"…beast…is gone…"

Rumpelstiltskin froze in terror, not recognizing the voices, but knowing immediately whom they were talking about. _Belle—_

Closing the stall door, he ran over and locked the main stable door, making sure that the latch was secured firmly shut. He then dashed back down the aisle and untied Onyx from the wall, tugging him back around the corner towards the tack room. "Belle!" he whispered. "Belle!"

"What?"

Rumpelstiltskin jumped, spinning around at her voice.

"What's—"

"Shh…" he said, silencing her with a finger. He placed Onyx's reins in her hand, and took the cotton bedroll out her arms. "You need to go now," he said urgently.

She looked back over her shoulder in confusion. "But—"

""There are men around the back, looking for you."

Her eyes went wide, but she stood frozen in place.

"Belle, you have to go."

"Okay," she said, nodding, turning to lead the horse out, but he stopped her, offering his hand at her knee, as she had him so many nights ago.

"Here, let me."

"No, it'll be easier, if you get on first—"

"I can't come with you," he said, looking back over his shoulder. The men would be here at any moment; she needed to go now.

"What? No. You said—"

"You need to go, Belle," he said urgently. "I'll stay behind and try to stall them to give you some time, but you have to go now before they find you."

She balked, shaking her head. "But, you said that you're coming with me."

"Belle, please, I need you to be safe. Let me help you. _Please_," he said, looking back over his shoulder again for the men. "Belle, you must go. Please go."

"I'm not leaving without yo—"

"Yes, you are," he said, trying to be firm and ignore how his voice cracked. "Please…" he begged, trying once again to help hoist her up. "Please, Belle, go."

She looked back towards the far doors, and then over towards the second aisle leading out towards the meadow beyond the stable. Panic was clear on her face when she looked back at him. "You remember where we first met? By the waterfall?"

He nodded, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Meet me there after they're gone. Promise me, you'll meet me there."

"I promise," he said breathlessly. He looked back, hearing the voices grow closer. "Please, Belle you must—"

She silenced him with a kiss, her warm hands holding his face in place as she pressed her lips firmly to his. She broke away a second later, her rosy lips flushed nearly red.

He stood shell-shocked, unable to do anything except stand by and watch her leap gracefully, unassisted onto the horse.

"I'll be waiting for you," she said.

Onyx snorted loudly, and jigged in place, excited to go. She struggled to hold him back, as she held Rumpelstiltskin's gaze for a long moment, offering him a watery smile, before spinning Onyx around and kicking him forward. The horse gave a little rear, and then charged forward, galloping down the aisle, and out into the dark night.

He watched the dark passage, seeing nothing but blackness, but pictured her running out towards the forest. Rumpelstiltskin wasn't a religious man—he'd long given up believing that any sort of god would stand by and watch men be obliterated by ogres—but in that moment, he sent up a prayer, hoping that anyone, or anything, listening would watch over her and keep her safe.

_**Creak…!**_

The sharp whine of the stable doors being opened jarred him from his thoughts, and he walked quickly over to the adjourning aisle.

Three men—two of which he had never seen before—were entering the stables. The third, he did recognize, and the knowledge of whom he was sent a sliver of terror down his spine. _Belle_, he reminded himself. _Be brave. Be brave for Belle_.

"You there," the Gaston's Hand said quietly, beckoning Rumpelstiltskin to him with a simple crook of his finger.

Rumpelstiltskin stood still. His every instinct screamed at him to flee, but he held his ground. "May…may I help you?"

The man's face remained blank with disinterest. "Where'd the princess go?"

"Princess?"

"Don't make me ask the question again, stable rat."

Rumpelstiltskin swallowed, and averted his eyes. Despite his bold words to Belle about stalling the men, now faced with the prospect, the realization that he was a terrible liar was becoming readily evident. "She, uh, I don't know, sir. She isn't here," he finished, trying to will his voice not to quake.

"Bring him to me," the man said tiredly.

His two guards, dressed in Gaston's gold and red robes, strode quickly forward and grabbed Rumpelstiltskin roughly. As much as he tried to keep up, the men's grip made it impossible, and they dragged him back to their master.

"You," the Hand said, removing his gloves while his eyes bored into Rumpelstiltskin's, "are going to tell me what I want to know." He paused, slipping a metal bar through his fingers to his knuckles. "Now, tell me where the princess went."

Rumpelstiltskin shook as he stared at the man's hand. The metal bar had dark brown flicks of dried blood. "The, um…the horses, sir, were restless…I came down to check on them, sir. I don't know…I never saw the princess."

The cruel looking man snickered. "Restless, eh?"

A flash of movement was the only warning Rumpelstiltskin had before the Hand's sharp steel knuckles crashed into the side of his face, striking him square in the jaw. He fell hard to the ground from the sheer force of the blow. All he could see were bright dots and stars swirling in his field of vision. The wave of pain hit a second later when he tried to move, causing another burst of stars to appear.

"Get him up," the Hand said tiredly.

Two pairs of rough hands grabbed him again, pulling him to his feet. He swayed, steadied only by the soldiers' grip. The stars abated slowly, but the pain only increased, and he felt a warm trickle, of what he assumed to be his blood, run down his cheek and onto his chest.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" the Hand asked, smiling. "Where is the princess?"

Rumpelstiltskin's head swam, with little bright lights still sprinkling his vision. He tried to shake his head, but it only made it worse. "The horses…"

"The horses what?"

"They were restless," he finished, tasting the metallic hint of blood in his mouth. "I came down to check—"

Before he could say another word, the Hand struck him again, harder this time, directly below his eye. A sickening crack sounded, as a burst of pain ripped through his skull. His legs gave out, but the guards' rough grip kept him upright.

"I'm going to ask you one more time, and if you don't tell me where the princess went, then I'll kill you. Understand? Now…where is Princess Belle?"

The loud drumming of the blood through his skull drowned out the man, and Rumpelstiltskin felt himself fading towards the blackness. _I'm sorry, Belle…_he thought, closing his eyes. His body was shaken hard though, reverberating the horrible pain, causing him to open his one good eye to look at the Hand who was now a step away from him with bright red blood covering his hand_. _

"Where is...the princess?" he growled.

Rumpelstiltskin's thoughts went to Belle, and he imagined her riding away, smiling back at him. The memory filled him with hope and he closed his remaining good eye. "The…" He swallowed. "The horses were restless, so I—" Before he could finish, a sharp spike of pain hit the back of his skull and he fell. Farther and farther, down into the darkness, until suddenly, there was nothing.

…

_**Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.**_

Rumpelstiltskin groaned at the painful drumming in his skull. The faint sound of dogs, and men shouting filtered slowly in as well, becoming louder and louder, until they merged, becoming an unbearable chorus in his head.

Confused, he struggled to open his eyes to see where he was, only to find that he could only slit his right eye open; his left eye had swollen completely shut. Not that it mattered; he realized a moment later that he was bound, his hands and feet tied together behind his back, and lying on his right side in the mud.

He shifted his head slightly, disorientated as to where he was, or what was going on, only to have a sharp wave of pain to rip through him at once, causing him to gasp and open his eye from the shock of it. A piercing light blinded him immediately, and he closed his eye again, surrendering to the pain.

It was morning. Or afternoon. With his head spinning and vision blurry, he truly couldn't tell, but he did know that he wasn't dead. He didn't know how, or why, he had survived the attack, but—Belle. _Belle. Where is Belle?_

He stirred and tried to open his eyes again, his adrenaline washing through him like a wave at the thought of Belle out there alone and in danger.

"You're alive."

Rumpelstiltskin flinched, startled by Sirio's voice so close next to him. He tried to open his eyes again and right himself, but his hands and legs were bound too tightly to move.

"The gods surely look over you, my friend. I'd been beginning to worry that you were truly dead. You haven't moved since they brought me here."

"What?" he asked, feeling his lips crack. He tried to squint and make out his surroundings. They were in the stable yard, but there were so many people flooding the area, it was hard to tell what was going on. "Where's Be—the princess?"

"Not here," Sirio murmured quickly back. He nudged him. "Keep your eyes closed. Better for them to think you dead, than drag you up to go another round with that man over there."

The knowledge that the Hand was nearby caused him to freeze at once. _Belle. Where is Belle?_ He tried to listen for clues as to what was going on. However, the sounds of men yelling about "the search," along with horses trotting through the mud, and dogs barking, only served to make his imagination run wild with darker and darker possibilities of what was going on. "What—"

"Shh…" Sirio whispered, cutting him off. "Hold your tongue. We are not the only ones tied here."

Rumpelstiltskin stilled again, cursing himself for his stupidity, yet his fear for what happened to Belle, or where she was, was nearly overwhelming him.

"Lay still," Sirio said sharply, his voice barely a whisper.

A second later, heavy footsteps strode towards them. Rumpelstiltskin held his breath, forcing his body to lie as still as possible. _Please go. Please go. Please go._

"You," a gruff voice announced. "He wants to talk to you."

Rumpelstiltskin froze, his heart leaping out of his chest.

"I said—get up!" the voice yelled. The command was followed by a loud thud of a boot kicking someone behind Rumpelstiltskin. He hadn't even realized that the man was there. "On your feet. He wants to talk to you."

"I told 'im already, I know nothing," a gravely voice growled back. "I'm not going with you again."

"That's not up for you to decide."

"He's not my commander. Tell 'em he can stick those questions right up his arse! I'm not tellin' him anything," the man spat back.

"We'll see about that." The solider snickered, and then delivered a series of brutal kicks that left his fellow captive wheezing and coughing in pain.

"Get him on his feet," the soldier said.

Rumpelstiltskin began shaking in fear, hearing two more pairs of heavy boots walk up towards him. As much as he tried to remain still, his body betrayed him and shook. He felt sick, knowing that they were sure to discover that he was conscious now. _Go away. Go away_, he begged.

Thankfully, the men seemed to be too preoccupied with the man behind him and didn't notice. He listened, hearing them heave the struggling man to his feet and drag him away.

A few minutes later, the yard quieted and Rumpelstiltskin felt Sirio shift his body closer towards his. "You can relax. They'll be gone for a while now," he murmured. "How is your head? Can you open your eye?"

Rumpelstiltskin tried, and failed, finding it impossible to budge.

"Don't worry, my friend. I will get you fixed up in no time once they release us from here."

"Why are they doing this? Did they find her?"

"No. They've been trying to all night without success. Now, Gaston's men have taken to interrogating us, as if one of us will betray her."

"But, the Hand—"

"Hush. You worry for nothing, my friend," Sirio said. "They won't find the princess if they send out another hundred men. Our princess has long fled these woods that they're searching in. Hasn't stopped them from trying though. Both kings still have their entire guards out looking for her. Sent out the dogs, trackers, and—"

Several more loud footsteps approached them, led by a panting dog, which sniffed at Rumpelstiltskin, licking the blood on his face before jogging away.

"As I said," Sirio continued, "the princess will run free. No one here will betray her. She's the only one in that castle that shows any decency towards us living outside it; they're wasting their breath, trying to beat a confession out of us. True Avonlean men won't betray their princess for a few licks of a whip."

Rumpelstiltskin nodded, hoping beyond all hope that Sirio was right. He had seen men like the Hand in the Ogre war though. Those men wouldn't stop until they got what they wanted; no matter what it took, or who they killed. Bravery only gave a man so far. All men broke. Rumpelstiltskin had seen the proof. He only hoped that they killed him, before they forced him to betray Belle.

"She did have help though," Sirio said, breaking Rumpelstiltskin's morose thoughts.

"What?" he asked, panicking that Sirio knew he let Belle go.

"Alliser," he whispered, relieving Rumpelstiltskin's fears at once. "He sent all his men out towards the Blue Mountains last night, telling them not to turn around until they caught up with her, and then told Gaston's men to head south, to cut her off at the pass." Sirio chuckled. "After this, you and I will have to start stocking up on poultice. Those men won't find anything except dirt and rocks up in those mountains. They'll sore all their horses before they catch wind of the princess. Alliser knows this. The princess is smart; she'll have headed east, up towards the Rynoke Valley."

_And the waterfall_, Rumpelstiltskin finished, picturing Belle waiting for him, thinking that he had abandoned her. His lip quivered and he felt tears begin to form behind in his swollen eyelids.

"Hey, my friend, what's this? I told you not to worry. You listen to Sirio, now, eh? Your princess will be safe. There's no one in the kingdoms that can catch her, or her beast at a full gallop even if they knew where she was going. I've seen it—many a time too. All her life she's slipped through their fingers. Silent, and as quick as an owl that one is. If you ask me, I'd bet that she's probably already halfway across the kingdom by now."

He nodded slowly, trying to not shake his damaged head too much.

"Don't worry—a couple days, and then, Sirio will help you get to your princess."

_What? _His eyes snapped open, and he jerked towards the groom in shock. _Oh gods!_

"Be stil, my friend. You have no need to worry. I will not betray you. I want her happiness as much as you do. And if that means getting you to her, so be it. You two belong together. I know this. I also know that you helped her, so now, it's my turn to help you. I will fix you up, and send you on your way to find her."

"Why?" Rumpelstiltskin croaked.

"Because I'm your friend, no? And I'm a fan of true love, of course."

"Ah—" Rumpelstiltskin gawked. "I…"

"Nah, ah—" Sirio chuckled, stopping him. "Save those words for the princess."

Rumpelstiltskin couldn't even fathom that they were discussing this. The whole thought of love was a folly. All he wanted was for Belle to be safe; he didn't care what else happened. "But, the Hand—"

"Is not here. He's been gone since last night. He doesn't know these woods. That man may be clever, but he is no match for someone who has been hiding in those woods her whole life."

_No, that man was smart._ "He knows I helped her," Rumpelstiltskin said. He'd seen it in his eyes last night; he knew Rumpelstiltskin was lying about not knowing what happened to Belle.

"I can see that," Sirio chuckled. "Did you tell him anything?"

"No."

"So what are you worried about? Your secret is safe."

"He'll torture me until I break and tell him!"

"Not here, he won't," Sirio said. "He has no rule here; our king and Alliser will return soon, and put an end to this. What Gaston's men are doing here is not allowed in Avonlea. They'll put a quick stop to it. Until they do, though, you will keep your eyes closed and rest. I will keep watch, don't you worry. When you awake, this will all be over."

Only Rumpelstiltskin knew that it wasn't going to be. Belle was out there waiting for him. Every minute that she waited was another minute that she was closer to being caught, and it was all his fault. His only hope was that she realized that he wasn't coming, and left. The thought that she would think that he didn't want to come, or worse betrayed her, made his heart break all over.

_Oh Belle_, he cried, closing his eyes tight. _Please forgive me._

…

A splash of freezing cold water doused Rumpelstiltskin, shocking him awake. He coughed, panicking as he felt the water enter his lungs through his nose.

"Told yer he was fakin' it," a deep voice called out behind him, kicking Rumpelstiltskin's side to emphasize his point.

Rumpelstiltskin gasped, the man's boot connecting directly in his ribs.

"Leave him alone!"

Belle's loud cry snapped Rumpelstiltskin out of his painful haze, and he slit his one good eye open. However, he found that he could only see dark blades of grass, bathed in orange firelight. He shifted, trying to see more, but his tight bonds prevented him.

"Get him to his feet," Gaston's Hand commanded.

Rumpelstiltskin had barely enough time to react, before his hands and feet were pulled roughly together, and then released by a sharp cut of a knife. Free from his bonds, he collapsed against the ground immediately; too weak to even lift his head.

The man standing behind him growled in frustration, and then lifted him straight up off the ground as if he weighed nothing.

Even with the man's firm grip on his collar, Rumpelstiltskin swayed on his feet, and struggled not to faint. His concern was nullified a second later, when a firm boot kicked the back of his knees, and he collapsed back into the dirt.

"Kneel before the king," the man commanded, pulling him roughly up by the back of his shirt to his knees.

_The king?_

Righting himself, he opened his eye far enough to be able to see. It was pitch dark and silent, with only flickers of torchlight to illuminate the four figures standing before him—the Hand, King Gaston, and a soldier holding Belle. _Belle!_

"Let him. Go!" Belle demanded again, kicking at the man. "He did nothing wrong!"

_Belle, no— _Rumpelstiltskin tried to rise, only to be forced back to his knees to watch her struggle in vain against the soldier's tight hold. The orange torchlight highlighted her bedraggled appearance and the ruined, muddied patches on her once beautiful dress. Another firm kick to the soldier's shin made the man falter for a moment, making him bite back a curse.

"Control her, will you?" Gaston asked tiredly, taking a step closer to his Hand, who was looming over Rumpelstiltskin. "This is him?"

"Indeed," the Hand remarked flatly.

Gaston's lip curled, as he looked over his shoulder at Belle. "You tried to run away from me for this…street rat?"

"Better than that," the Hand said, stepping forward. In one sharp tug, he ripped the right arm of Rumpelstiltskin's tunic off, exposing his bare arm. "A deserter," he spat, jerking Rumpelstiltskin's arm towards him and digging the point of his blade into the mark. "Baldor found it while this coward was playing dead out in the yard."

Released from the Hand's hold, Rumpelstiltskin collapsed in half, hiding himself from Belle in shame. Sharp tears pricked his eyes as the men laughed at his unfinished tattoo. What had once been a source of pride for him—being chosen for service in the Duke of the Frontlands' army, despite his lowly position—was now his biggest shame. He has taken every precaution to ensure that no one, especially Belle, had seen the mark, because unlike the other soldiers in his unit, he did not have the second mark, showing his completion of service. His mark showed him for what he was—a true coward. A deserter.

"Oh well, isn't that perfect?" the king crooned. "Did he teach you how to run too, princess?"

"Stop it," Belle growled. "He didn't do anything wrong, or help me. I did that all myself."

Without warning, the king struck out, kicking Rumpelstiltskin square in his jaw, sending him flying back into the mud.

Belle's screams registered vaguely through the blinding pain. _No, Belle…don't_, he begged, trying to lift himself up. His limbs failed him, and he fell back again, stars crossing his vision. His head lolled to the side, and he tried to look at Belle on last time. _Belle…_he thought, feeling himself slip away.

_**Splash!**_

Rumpelstiltskin snapped back into vague alertness, the freezing water shocking his senses. He coughed, and felt his whole body shake from the cold, despite the warm summer night.

Unable and too scared to resist, he allowed himself to be forced back to a kneeling position again. Bowing his head, he chanced a glance upwards; Belle was sobbing at him, held back by the guard.

Gaston simply sighed, and looked down at his boot, lifting it for inspection. "Ugh," he sneered, "The bastard got blood on my boot."

"Why are you doing this? Why?" Belle cried. "He's done nothing wrong. He's innocent!"

"Innocent? That's what you call deserters in these parts?" He laughed, holding his boot for Rumpelstiltskin's guard to clean. "Well, my dear princess, you'll certainly have a lot to learn once you come to Lornes. In my kingdom, there is only one penalty for desertion—death." He stepped towards her, jerking his boot out of the attendant's hand. "In this case, however, what I just did to your little pet here was what I really wanted to do to _you_."

"Then, do it," Belle said, holding her head up defiantly at his threat.

He scowled and lifted his arm, anger flashing over his face. For a terrifying moment, Rumpelstiltskin thought that he was going to strike her, but then the king stepped back, resuming his mask of indifference. "Such a shame that a pretty little thing, such as yourself, has to be such a cow. However, as much as I would love to show you what truly happens when you decide to embarrass me, I'll have to save it for after our wedding. Your father and I have an agreement. And I certainly can't have my bride all bruised up for the wedding now, can I?" he asked lifting his finger to tilt her chin upwards.

Belle forced a smile to her face, even as a tear betrayed her, slipping down her cheek.

"Thankfully, in the meantime, I have a new whipping boy here for my use for you."

"You can't do this," Belle said, her strong voice cracking.

"Can't I?" Gaston asked, mocking her with a shrug. "Who is to tell me 'no,' princess? Your father? You'll tell him what I did? The daughter who just ran away and shamed him?" He laughed. "Your father will beg me to marry you after what you did today, Princess."

"Then, don't," Belle begged, twisting in the soldier's grip. "Don't marry me."

"Ahh, but you see, I already agreed to doing just that, and I will _not _be made a fool of," he said. He stopped, taking a step back, a smile reappearing on his face. "Don't worry, Princess. I doubt that we'll be married long anyways. Isn't that right, Hand?"

Rumpelstiltskin looked over, catching the dark look the Hand gave the princess. It made his skin crawl.

"In the meantime, you will be obedient. I will see to it that this little stunt you pulled today will be your last." He turned to his Hand, and then gestured to Rumpelstiltskin. "Kill him."

"NO!" Belle screamed, lunging against the soldier's arms.

"My word," Gaston chuckled. "You really do care for this street rat, don't you?" Her struggling only made him laugh harder. "Surely, I've heard of maidens falling in love with knights, but a stable hand? Surely, you must have higher standards than this, Princess?"

"He did nothing wrong!"

"Ahh, but you see that's not what my Hand says. He says that the first name you called out when he found you was his. So sweet. Now, Hand? If you would please? I've been out here far too long already."

Rumpelstiltskin looked over in horror as the Hand unsheathed his long blade, a glimmering piece of steel that was flecked with dried blood. The scarred man walked over towards him, his sword at his side, and a smile on his face. Rumpelstiltskin looked back over at Belle, wanting to say something,_ anything_ to her as his last words, but his mouth was too dry to speak. As hard as he tried not to, he saw the blade being raised out of the corner of his eye. _Belle, I'm sorry–_

"Hold!" the king called out.

Rumpelstiltskin flinched, feeling a slight breeze of a missed hit graze by his neck, and then hit the dirt beside him with a dull thud.

"Your Grace?" the Hand asked.

"Hold, Hand," he repeated, turning towards Belle. "This is my wedding gift to you, Princess. His life. A pitiful one at that, but it seems a useful one for a little while longer."

Rumpelstiltskin nearly collapsed in relief.

"We'll take him with us," the king continued, addressing his Hand. "Should the princess decide to run away again, I will have him killed. Should the princess decide to raise her voice again, I will have him beaten. I don't think I need to remind you, Princess, but judging by his sad state, it doesn't look like your stable rat will survive another beating should you decide to disobey me. Now, what do you say to that?"

Tears ran down Belle's face, as she tore her eyes from Rumpelstiltskin's. "Thank you, your Highness."

"You're welcome. I'm sure you'll find a way to repay me and show me your gratitude later," he leered. "However, there is that little matter of you running away. _That_, my darling fiancée, is something that I cannot overlook. Hand? If you would, please."

Rumpelstiltskin flinched, seeing a quick movement out of the side of his eye, and then gasped, his scream choked by his blinding pain of his ankle breaking. He collapsed, rolling onto the ground, only to be hit again, harder this time, directly in the foot. He howled with pain, and tried to curl up to protect himself. However, his injured leg was pulled away from him and he was held down. He tried to fight back, kicking with his other leg, as he sobbed, hearing Belle's screams in the distance.

It was no use. He had barely enough time to brace himself after he heard the word "again," before he heard a loud, sickening "crack," and then—blackness.

…

Rumpelstiltskin stirred, feeling his head being pushed gently. He tried to make the movement stop, but he felt too much pain to even try. The pain was simply overwhelming, all-encompassing.

"Et, et, shoo," Sirio said above him. "Get away from him." The pushing stopped immediately to Rumpelstiltskin's relief.

The rest of his senses returned to him slowly—the familiar sound of the stables, the smell of straw. He tried opening his eyes, but couldn't.

"Oh thank the gods," his friend exclaimed. "You're awake. I'd been worried that you were never going to wake up."

Rumpelstiltskin tried to respond, but his exhaustion rendered him incapable, and he felt himself begin to fall back asleep, the temptation proving to be nearly overwhelming.

"No, no, now," Sirio chided, tapping his cheek. "You must stay awake. Don't fall asleep."

A pungent odor, unlike any that Rumpelstiltskin had ever smelt in all of his years as a spinner, was placed directly below his nose. He flinched away from it, retching. The movement made his body spasm in pain, and he collapsed back onto the makeshift straw bed, exhausted. He felt like he was dying. Never could he have imagined that he could be in so much pain.

A warm gust of air snorted over his face, startling him out of his thoughts, but an audible smack sent it away just as quickly.

"I'm sorry, my friend," Sirio said, wiping Rumpelstiltskin's brow with a soft, wet, sponge. "I need you to try your hardest to stay awake for me, okay? Can you open your eyes?"

He gulped, bracing himself, and tried; as before, only his left eye opened, and barely at that. He realized immediately that he was in a stall. It was dark, lit by flickering lantern light. He looked over towards his left; Sirio was kneeling by his makeshift bed with Onyx looking curiously over his shoulder.

"That's good," his friend said. "Once I finish draining your head humors, you'll be able to open the other. For now, you need to drink this."

Rumpelstiltskin tried to sip the offered liquid in the bowl Sirio held in front of him, but the angle made it impossible.

"Here," Sirio said, placing the bowl aside and gently stuffing more straw under the blanket beneath Rumpelstiltskin's back, propping him up.

It was only then that Rumpelstiltskin saw the true extent of his broken body. His tunic and pants had been cut away, and replaced with stained gauze and linens, along with dozens of black leeches placed all over his body. His left leg was the worst. Nearly indistinguishable as a foot, the swollen red mass made him want to retch again. He looked over to Sirio, and then back at his leg, not believing that it was his, despite the intense throbbing pain radiating from the joint. "What…" He stopped, catching his breath. "What happened?"

"They brought you to me like this. I am truly sorry, my friend. They took me away to be questioned and when I returned, you were gone. I asked, but no one knew what had happened to you. I had been beginning to think the worst until Gaston's men dragged you in here several hours ago. They did this to you, didn't they?"

Rumpelstiltskin nodded, barely stifling a sob.

"Orospu çocuğu! O lanet korkaklar! Nasıl cesaret!" Sirio swore, shaking his head. "They will pay. If not in this life, than in the next, I swear it to you."

Sirio's bold words did nothing to help his pain, and he closed his eyes, seeing Belle's face at once. _Belle._ "Belle," he repeated out loud. "Is she—?"

"Safe in the castle. The word in town is that Gaston's Hand rescued her from Summarian kidnappers. They're throwing that kahrolasi adam a feast in his honor now. Maybe I should bring them the golden tipped arrows that were buried in Onyx, here, eh? Wonder what they'd say to that?" Sirio spat.

The groom grumbled, batting Onyx away as he picked up the wooden bowl again. "Here, drink this. It will help with the pain."

Rumpelstiltskin drank the bitter liquid slowly with Sirio's help. Once finished, he sank back into the blanket piled around him.

"You'll feel better soon," Sirio said. "My uncle had an apothecary—he taught be all of this. That potion, in particular, will allow you to rest in peace. In the meantime, suck on this." He offered him a dark root. "It will help with the pain until the potion takes effect."

"Thank you," Rumpelstiltskin whispered, feeling his eyes grow heavy again.

"Eh, eh…stay awake now," he said, patting Rumpelstiltskin's cheek. "I know it's hard, but you must so the humours may drain. Your head has been wounded; those are the most difficult humours of all to purge. It is necessary that you stay awake."

Rumpelstiltskin looked down at the leeches attached to his body again. Truly, all he wished to do was sleep; whether or not his humours grew stagnant was not his concern. Even still, he turned his head to watch his friend begin to tend to Onyx, tying him to the wall. He hadn't noticed before, but the stallion had several puncture marks on his neck and flank, each surrounded by a large wet area, which he could only assume, was blood.

"Poor creature came wandering in from the woods shortly before they brought you here. Had two arrows still in his side," Sirio said, pouring a bottle of strong smelling alcohol over the first wound. "The soldiers said that you will both leave with them tomorrow. I told them that it isn't possible, but they wouldn't listen. Though, judging by your face, you knew that already."

Rumpelstiltskin sighed and gave another glance at his ruined leg again. There was no way that he would be able to last the half-day's ride to the shore. Or perhaps, he thought morosely, the king knew that.

"Do not worry. I have set much worse. You will walk again. Perhaps, not soon, but you will," Sirio said, as if sensing his thoughts. "I heard that it's nearly a fortnight to Lornes; that will give you time to heal. I'll send you with enough leeches to allow for your humours to drain properly, and medicine for you to withstand your journey. Once you arrive…" He stopped, and turned around, offering Rumpelstiltskin a reassuring smile. "You'll find a way. The gods have been with you so far; they won't abandon you now. Not when you need them the most."

"The gods don't look out for people like me," he said sadly, looking down at his mark still showing for the entire world to see. Sirio had not commented on it, but surely he knew what it meant.

"They don't do they?" Sirio said, ignoring the tattoo. "Then, how do you explain all this?" he said, gesturing to Rumpelstiltskin's body. "Men do not survive this; yet, here you are alive before me."

Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes. "Because of her," he whispered. "They kept me alive for so she won't run away. She can't…this is all my fault," he said, his voice breaking. A fresh wave of guilt came over him at the thought of Belle wanting to run away again, but staying for his sake.

"No, no, my friend," Sirio said, patting Rumpelstiltskin's arm. "This is not your fault. Don't say that."

"She waited for me. If she hadn't…"

"Then, she would be gone. But, she would also not have you by her side. She knew that; that's why she waited. How were you to know that she would be found? Are you a seer? No. Did you tell the Hand where she went?"

"No," Rumpelstiltskin answered sharply, his chest aching from the effort.

"Then, why do you say that it is your fault, when clearly it is not? Those men did this—not you. One only has to look at you to know that you did not betray her. She knows that too. Look—I forgot. I have something for you," Sirio said, standing up again, and exiting the stall.

The groom returned a moment later, walking around Onyx, and kneeling once again by Rumpelstiltskin's bed. "Now, look at this," he said, producing a small object, wrapped in light parchment from behind his back. "This was delivered to me when I went home to get supplies for you. It's for you."

Rumpelstiltskin frowned in confusion, and extended his hand gingerly towards the small package. It was barely the size of his fist, but obviously wrapped with care.

"Come now—open it."

Hesitating for a brief moment, Rumpelstiltskin found the seam, and opened the package. As soon as he touched it, a surge of hope went through him, nearly bringing tears to his eyes, and he carefully unfolded it in front of him. It was Belle's favor—light blue, the color of her eyes, and elaborately embroidered with a "B" in the corner.

"You see? She still cares for you."

His vision went blurry at the thought, and he had to wipe away his tears. To know that Belle still cared about him, despite knowing everything…_Oh, Belle, _he sighed, unable to stop his lip from quivering. A sob nearly escaped him at the hope her small gesture gave him.

"But, the king…" he whimpered, caressing the soft silk. "He's going to force her to marry him."

Sirio nodded. "Yes, that is true. However, who says that that is how it must be?"

He looked up, and shook his head, blinking away the tears that blurred his vision. "I don't understand."

"That is the woman you love, yes?" he said firmly, waiting until Rumpelstiltskin relented finally, and gave a slight nod. "Then, that is enough. You fight for her. You bring her back."

He shook his head. "You might as well say, buy her freedom with diamonds. She's a princess, soon to be a queen. How in the world am I supposed to bring her back?"

"Because she is your true love, of course. There is power in that—do not underestimate it. Love allows us to do things that we never thought possible," Sirio said, tipping his head. "She saved you once, now it is your turn to save her."

"But _how_?" he cried, his voice cracking again. "I'm not a knight. I'm a coward, and now a cripple. The only thing I've ever known how to do is to run and hide in whatever corner I could find. How am I supposed to save her?"

"That, my friend, is not for me to answer. Only the fates can know that. But the gods have favored you so far—why else keep you alive, if not for this purpose?" he asked, spreading his hands. "You will succeed. That I know."

"But, I can't even walk! How am I supposed to…?" He stopped, shaking his head. "This is madness. Look at this," he said, pointing to his tattooed arm. "I am a coward, Sirio. A _coward_—"

"You are what you make yourself," he said, cutting him off. "Nothing more—nothing less. A true coward would have run from here, and have never looked back, yet you stayed and tried to protect her. That is no coward, my friend. You need to believe that."

"But, I failed her."

"No, you tried your best. That is all anyone can do. Failure would be to run, or betray her to those men. You did neither of those things. You took the hard path, and deserve her all the more for it."

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. He didn't deserve anyone, let alone a princess such Belle. It was a folly, a foolish wish that she would want him after everything that she had seen tonight.

"Hey, hey, look there," Sirio said, pointing to the favour still clutched in his hand. "Would a princess give her favour to a coward? No. She gave that to you, because she believes in you. You're her champion."

_Her _champion_?_ No, he couldn't be. It was a mistake to think that she was placing all of her hope in him.

"Et—stop that worrying. I see that I have a lot of work cut out for me, if am to convince you of this before morning. But know this Rumpelstiltskin—you are smart and I have faith in you. The gods favor you as well. And remember above all else— you are not alone in this; the princess is very smart too. You help each other," he said, tilting his head pointedly at the favour again. "You will do this, my friend. You will."


End file.
